by Nidhai Guessoum


The Imam had been giving his khutba (sermon) for no more than a few minutes when I realized it was going to be one of those boring and irrelevant speeches we hear so often during the Friday prayers. And although I am usually as prepared (psychologically) as one can be for these boring speeches, having heard more of them than I can count, I could hardly fight off the rising wave of anger within me.

It’s not that I expect an emotionally or intellectually uplifting khutba every time I go to the mosque, no, I simply find it difficult to accept that - or even to understand how - such supposedly highly educated and socially conscious Imams fail to grasp certain fundamental rules pertaining to the Friday sermon: a) use the language of the people, b) focus on the message being conveyed rather than on the linguistic decorations of the speech, and c) address topics that are relevant to the audience in attendance and link them (the topics) to the present situation and current.

The Imam had been giving his khutba (sermon) for no more than a few minutes when I realized it was going to be one of those boring and irrelevant speeches we hear so often during the Friday prayers.

After all, the Friday congregational prayer was instituted mainly so that the Imam, the temporal and religious leader of the community, might discuss current problems pertaining to the community, in light of Islamic teachings. And one would think that our “religious leaders” (especially those educated at “Islamic” institutions - and who make a big deal out of that) would have a firm grasp of this concept; but no ...

That particular day, the Imam not only gave both sermons in Arabic - without having a single word translated mind you - but, after spending about ten minutes carefully choosing the most stylish and literary expressions to praise Allah and His Messenger, went on to give a 45-minute khutba to answer the question: what is the origin of our well-being and of our hardships? And, using his voice and his hands as in a great operatic performance, he then arrived at the conclusion that the origin of all is ... Allah.

But even though I was fully aware that I had come to pray to God, not to the Imam, and that my reward was Insh’Allah secure no matter how bad the khutba would be, I couldn’t help but think that I had just wasted several hours of my time. After all, Allah’s reward does not prerequisite the idle, daydreaming sitting that I went through; after all, time is precious in Islam. In fact, I had just driven all the way across town for the prayer, taken a 2.5 hour absence from work, and eaten a sandwich for lunch in my car while driving. But what made me more deeply upset and concerned was to realize that, even worse than my own plight, my non-Arab brothers and sisters had gotten absolutely nothing out of the speech, except perhaps the feeling that in Islamdom a nonArab Muslim is at best a neglected second-class fellow. How could we then dare go on repeating that Islam is a universal religion, a religion of brotherhood, and that “there is no advantage of an Arab Muslim over a non-Arab Muslim, or to a white Muslim over a black Muslim expect through piety?” And why should we then be surprised when our youth flee the mosques and Islamic centers, and view them as obsolete institutions. The situation indeed is not only sad, it is alarming.

But I am afraid that this kind of handling of the khutba as well as of the non-Arab component of the Muslim community, is today the norm rather than the exception, at least as far as the situation in America is concerned. I once attended a Friday prayer during which the (Pakistani) Imam, after checking the thickness of the rug to make sure it complied with the “sunnah” went on to read an Arabic khutba that even he did not understand indeed, he mixed up the ordering of the pages and read the pre-written (and perhaps even decades-old) speech from end to beginning. For him, you see, giving the sermon in Arabic was more important than comprehending its content or having the audience understand the message.

The consequence of this phenomenon is tremendous. This not only transforms the Friday prayer and the khutba into a formal Latin (in this case, Arabic) mass that bears no effect whatsoever on the Muslim’s life, it moreover projects a dangerous image of Islam in this country as an immigrants’ religion. Unfortunately, this phenomenon is upheld by some reactionary Muslim groups who are vehemently opposed to any change in the approach to the khutba, form or content, or to the criteria in use for the selection of the Imam who is to lead this congregational prayer. I remember when, a few years ago, several brothers and I decided to hold prayers and khutbas at our university so that we wouldn’t have to miss one or two classes each Friday. I remember how the local “authorities” first tried to convince us that: a) our number was too small for our congregational prayer to be valid, and b) that none of us students were “qualified” to lead the prayer. When all this “convincing” failed, they simply spread the rumor that we had decided to split from the community, with all the negative reactions that this entailed.

The requirement of “qualification” in fact, has become one of the most effective weapons of these reactionaries. It is used systematically against anyone who dares to challenge, at whatever level, the status quo of imported rules and traditions. Many times have I heard the rebuke “what (Islamic) university did your so-and-so graduate ITom?” More dangerous still, I have seen many young, bright, bilingually. educated Muslims cave in and accept this view, to the point of sometimes deciding to give the khutba in Arabic when they could have given it in perfect English, to the benefit of all.

So much for the language and form of the khutba. What about the contents of these speeches? As briefly touched upon earlier, the topics that must be addressed in the khutba ... it moreover projects a dangerous image of Islam in this country as an immigrants’ religion.

Should arise from the situations and problems faced by the (local) Muslim community, and occasionally those of the ummah (worldwide Islamic community). A quick survey of the contents of the khutbas being delivered here and there today reveals none of this. The topics most often covered range from the irrelevant to the beaten-to-death, and fall mainly into three categories:

1) Those topics that betray the Imam’s own social background and his interests: for example, a Pakistani Imam once gave us a whole khutba on the qadiani movement; and a Jordanian Imam a few years ago gave us an hour-long speech on the meeting between King Hassan of Morocco and Peres of Israel. I could only sit there and imagine the native born American brothers and sisters wondering why they should be lectured on these questions especially during a Friday prayer.

2) Those topics that raise and discuss specific matters of fiqh (detailed Islamic laws pertaining to the daily life of the Muslim), such as wu’dhu (ablution), taraweeh (the optional Ramadan nightly prayer), divorce laws, hajj (the pilgrimage), etc.

3) The beaten-to-death topics such as the status of women in Islam, family in Islam, the unity of Prophets and Messages, jihad (struggle) in Islam, etc.

In fact, even such topics could still be bearable to listen to during a khutba if only the Imam made a slight effort to address them in light of current events or of the present social atmosphere, as when clarifying the concept of jihad after the broadcast of a distorting documentary, or upon setting the record straight on the status of women in Islam in contra-distinction to a mocking newspaper article. In such instances, the experience has shown, the audience will be glued to the Imam’s lips, because the topic then becomes relevant to the community.

Relevant is indeed the key idea here. What the khutba must do is address current problems of the community (problems which, by necessity, will differ from those encountered and discussed in Egypt, Pakistan, or Malaysia), and attempt to present Islamic solutions to them. In fact, it is not difficult at all to come up with topics relevant to the Islamic communities in America today and which need to be addressed very seriously; for example:

a) The problems of Muslim youth: their proper education, their relations with their parents, with the Islamic community, and with the non-Muslim society; the boy-girl interactions, dating, marriage, etc.

b) The problems of Muslim women: the work/home dilemma, the tug-of-war between the Islamic requirements and society’s demands, the marriage problem for new female Muslims, women’s involvement in their Islamic communities as well as in their non-Islamic communities, etc.

c) The problems of the community in its integration within the larger society: in preserving its identity (religious and cultural), in implementing its own lifestyle (in schooling, business, food preparation), in contributing to and influencing the larger society’s lifestyle and agenda, etc.

Issues such as these are relevant and even vital, and should thus be addressed with the urgency they deserve. Until now, at least in my experience, they have rarely even been tapped.

Perhaps it may appear to some that the current troublesome khutba situation is only a minor inconvenience that Muslims must learn to bear. In my view, this problem lies at the very core of a larger social and religious battle being silently fought: should Islam remain a “traditional” religion (like all other presently existing religions) - standing on the sidelines of life - or should it go back, as it was intended, to directing life itself; can Muslims take their religious life into their own hands, or must they continue to accept the stagnation imposed by this self-appointed clergy?

A lot is at stake, and what kind of khutba we end up instating may well determine what kind of Islam our future generations will live.