I silently stood transfixed in front of the third holiest mosque in Islam: the Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem. A few elderly men sat in front of the entrance to the mosque, talking quietly with each other, but the complex, which also houses the Dome of the Rock, was empty. I stood in the middle of the two mosques, one with its gleaming golden dome, the other with its smaller gray-green dome and emotion overcame me. This was the culmination of my journey to Jerusalem: to be able to stand in one of the holiest sites of the religion that had guided me and had been woven into the fabric of my being.
I was permitted to enter the Al-Aqsa Mosque as a tourist, because generally men prayed in Al-Aqsa and women in Dome of the Rock. In Dome of the Rock, I touched the rock from which Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) ascended to heaven during the Miraj. I was quite moved, in an intense spiritual sense, to be in a place where the Prophet of Islam had stood and where one of the miracles of Islam had occurred. I had undertaken a pilgrimage and become imbued with a tiny particle of the holiness that abounded in this area. To some degree, I forgot about the petty material links that bound me so firmly to a worldly life—concerns over graduate schools, financial considerations, questions of how I appeared to other people. These issues did not disappear, of course, but for that brief moment, these links became tenuous and were overshadowed by where I was and what I stood before. I was in the presence of Islamic history.
In Jerusalem, even spirituality reminds one of the conflict in Israel and Palestine. My guide led me outside the mosque and pointed to the bullet holes in the walls of the Dome of the Rock, reminders of that fateful Friday in 2000 C.E. when then Prime Minister Ariel Sharon visited the Al-Aqsa complex and a riot broke out. There are definite political implications in the location of Al-Haram al-Qudsi al-Sharif, or the Noble Sanctuary. Both Judaism and Islam have consecrated holy land here. Supposedly, Al-Aqsa Mosque itself is built on the ancient foundations of the Jewish Temple of Solomon; indeed, the mosque overlooks the Wailing Wall, the last visible remnant of the Temple. When Jews visit one of the holiest sites in Judaism, the dome of Al-Aqsa is clearly visible from the foot of the Wailing Wall. The location of Al-Aqsa Mosque has prompted much concern among a certain segment of Jews, who believe that the restoration of the Temple of Solomon is necessary for the coming of the Jewish Messiah. In fact, some radical groups advocate the destruction of Al-Aqsa Mosque in order to rebuild the Temple.
Muslims ardently reject this proposal. Al-Aqsa is considered the “farthest mosque,” a reference to the Miraj, when Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) went from Mecca to the farthest mosque in Jerusalem. In the Quran, Al-Aqsa is mentioned as the second House of God after the Kaaba; the temple there (destroyed by the Romans) was dedicated to the worship of God by both Solomon and David, prophets whom all three monotheistic faiths—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam—recognize and revere. In addition, the first Qibla was towards Al-Aqsa. In the seventh century, the Caliph Umar first proposed the idea of a mosque there and helped to clean up the area, which was falling into disrepair. At the end of the seventh century, the Caliph Abd al-Malik then built a mosque, Dome of the Rock, over the rock from which the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) had ascended into heaven, and his son and successor, al-Walid, undertook the restoration and renovation of the Al-Aqsa Mosque. Thus, both Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque became revered symbols of Islam.
I returned to Al-Aqsa for the Friday prayers. The sheer number of Muslims gathered here astounded me; I had never seen so many Muslims attend Friday prayers before. I felt a true sense of community as we heard the call to prayer echo through the complex. The interior of the Dome of the Rock, dominated by the large rock in the center of the mosque, glimmered with gorgeous mosaics and Arabic letters unfurled themselves along the walls. After the prayer, families gathered outside on the lawns of the mosques to have picnics underneath the shade of the trees. Children played soccer and chased each other. I was surprised by how different the ambience was at Friday prayers in Jerusalem as contrasted with those at home, where the Imam rushed to usher everyone out of the mosque within an hour so people could return to classes or to work. At Al-Aqsa people incorporated their religious obligations within their lives and created a supportive, unified community. In this beautiful place, worship was exalted.
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