take a break, contemplate

I went to the Grande Mosquée de Paris today, again, this time with my Francophone Literature class. We're starting to study North African literature--les histoires du Maghreb--and, since the Francophone countries of North Africa (Morocco, Algeria..) are predominantly Muslim, the visit made perfect sense.

I found a couple of things particularly interesting.

We went on a guided tour of the mosque, which is huge and beautiful. Our guide told us, in his hard-to-understand French, something that I already knew, but hadn't really thought about much: it is forbidden for Muslims to represent any sort of god, deity, or prophet, be it in a painting, a drawing, a sculpture, a photograph, what have you. You can have all the patterns you want--and trust me, the mosaics in the Parisian mosque are absolutely stunning; I can't even imagine what it is I'll be seeing just next week in Morocco!--but you can't have a pictoral representation of "God." Why? It makes perfect sense: no one has seen what these gods and deities and prophets look like.

While I'm on the subject of stunning mosaics... As I was looking around in awe at my surroundings today, I couldn't help but be a little sad. All the places of worship that I have seen, churches, mosques--especially here in Europe--are absolutely beautiful. And I don't know whether my pangs of sadness came from the realization that these works of art have been built to pay respect to something/someone that, quite possibly, does not exist; or whether it is because there is nothing that I so strongly believe in that would make me want to create something as beautiful, ornate, and intricate. But, in the words of Adrian, "The world is our oyster. We may not believe in what the churches preach, but I believe that the world is beautiful. I kind of see nature as my temple, and whenever I take the time to notice how beautiful a tree is or how intricate a flower is, I feel that much more spiritual."

My professor ended up being a little late, so we ended up starting our guided tour a little late. But this turned out to be a blessing in disguise (perhaps I shouldn't be using religious references here), because we got to hear the Muslim call to prayer. 5:30 PM, a man in a suit walks outside the entrance to the actual mosque itself (the room where the men pray, shoeless, facing Mecca) and calls everyone to prayer. It was, quite frankly, really haunting and very beautiful. I'd never heard anything like it, and it was quite an experience to listen to this man singing an ancient prayer, an ancient ritual, and to see all the men shuffling in their flipflops towards the mosque, depositing their shoes just outside the door. The women, of course, went in another entrance--but that's another blog entry (or thesis, really) in itself.

What really bothered me, though, was that other tourists around us were taking pictures, as if this were some sort of spectacle. I was incredibly embarrassed for this woman who stood three feet away from the singing man (I'm sure there's a proper name for him, but Google is simply too many clicks away right now, as I am in the midst of an epiphany--here I go with the religious references..) snapping photographs left and right. I myself felt very disrespectful, being so close to the mosque and to these prayers when I don't believe in the things that they do. But perhaps I just think about things like that too much.

Anyway, it was very cool to think of millions and millions of people all praying at the same time, facing the same direction; perhaps thinking the same thoughts, perhaps not.

And then I watched "Religulous" when I came home, and all my thoughts about the beauty of religion have completely dissipated, and I am back to being just as confused and full of doubt as ever. Some quotes that particularly struck me:

"Religion is dangerous because it allows human beings who don't have all the answers to think that they do. Most people would think it's wonderful when someone says, 'I'm willing Lord, I'll do whatever you want me to do.' Except that since there are no gods actually talking to us, that void is filled in by people with their own corruptions and limitations and agendas."

"The only appropriate attitude for man to have about the big questions, is not the arrogant certitude that is the hallmark of religion, but doubt. Doubt is humble and that is what man needs to be, considering that human history is just a litany of getting shit dead wrong."

I'm going to stop before I get into emotionally (and politically, unfortunately) charged territory, but let's just say that there's a lot to think about tonight...