Secondhand Prayer

We wanted to share with you all a little reflection written by our Jewish coordinator, Moshe.

Second-hand Prayer

We the coordinators have barely been a week here, and we will only have our first programs on Wednesday and Thursday, but I already feel like I'm finding some Chautauqua gems. I'm going to share one of them with you, but pssshhhhh, don't tell anyone!

I arrived in Chautauqua bright and early at 4:30a.m. Tuesday morning. My roommate Jawad, the Muslim coordinator, was impressively un-grumpy when I knocked on the door to wake him up and let me into the room. I did my best to unpack the few things I needed for the night and get into bed with the least amount of noise possible. Somehow, by the Grace of G-d, I woke up at 8:30 a.m. refreshed. Now Jawad seemed like a perfectly nice guy, but it has been over a ten years since I last had a roommate. It's one of those things you kind of get used to. Having one's own space is nice, so I have to admit that as much as I was willing to tolerate Jawad for a while, I was really looking forward to having my own room ASAP.

As we began to talk, I thought to myself, "okay, this guy is not so bad," but "I still really want my room." Then he got up to do his prayers. I don't know how much you pray, but religious Muslims pray five times a day! And don't get me wrong, I actually love prayer. However, I've been to Mosques and Churches before, and while I always find it a privilege to be able to appreciate another religious tradition, I also kind of feel like a voyeur. It's beautiful, but it also feels like not my place to be there.

So when Jawad began to pray, I couldn't wait to get out of there, but it was also my room. Where could I go? Was I going to leave five times a day? So I just stayed in bed and tried distract myself by reading a book. However, I was interrupted but what we the APYA coordinators have come to affectionately refer to as "second-hand prayer." I felt a wave of kedusha (the Hebrew word for holiness) sweep over me as Jawad gently chanted the Muslim praises of G-d in Arabic. The kedusha washed over me in waves. I tried to resist, I didn't want to be a voyeur, so I focused on my reading. But the room was filled with it, as thick as a mother's and father's embrace in one. So eventually, I let go.

I'm usually not with Jawad five times a day, but every morning before I get up and evening after I lay down to sleep, this Jewish Rabbinic student, gets the amazing privilege of feeling the awesome presence of kedusha sweep over him as his Muslim roommate does his daily prayers. In other parts of the world our peoples are terrified of each other, lashing out in violence and fear. So I consider myself lucky, I get a have a little taste of Gan Eden (the Garden of Eden), with my Muslim roommate and new friend Jawad.

As a shameless promotion, come join us some second-hand prayer, or even first-hand, for Jam'a, the Muslim Friday prayers. Jawad is leading.

Moshe