I went to the mosque yesterday

The last time I visited a mosque was in 2009. I was traveling in the Netherlands with my parents, visiting my sister. It was a Friday, and my father, a lifelong student of Islam, invited me to join him for the Friday prayer. I vividly recall the imam's sermon that day, a passionate critique of Muslim rulers and a troubling flirtation with justifying terrorism. After the prayer, I asked my father his thoughts on the sermon. He acknowledged the preacher's knowledge but expressed concern over his extreme interpretations. When I asked if such a sermon could be delivered in our home country, he flatly said no.

Fast forward to yesterday. Living in Nanterre, a Paris suburb, I found myself curious about revisiting a mosque. The Grand Mosque of Nanterre, just a 15-minute walk from my home, seemed like a perfect opportunity. I arrived an hour early to soak in the full experience. The mosque was impressive - newly built, with pristine carpets. At first, only a handful of elderly individuals were present, quietly reading the Quran.

Choosing a comfortable spot near a pillar, I settled in as Surat Al-Kahf played softly through the speakers. Gradually, the mosque filled with less than a hundred people. A distinguished-looking man in a turban and what appeared to be an oriental coat took the stage for a pre-prayer lesson. He began by beautifully reciting the Quran. His voice took me back decades. His lesson, however, was more admonishing, speaking down to us about the dualities of life - good and evil, black and white, male and female - his voice rising in intensity.

Then, another dignified figure, reminiscent of a Syrian Quranic clerk, slowly ascended to the pulpit. His deliberate, heavy steps reminded me oddly of Pope Alexander VI. A call for donations in Arabic and French followed, with volunteers passing through the rows to collect. The imam's forceful appeal for donations struck a discordant note with me. For some reason, I remembered my mother and grandmother and how they could be victims of this charlatan, and I decided to leave, passing by scores of people entering as I exited.

As I walked towards the train station, a curious thought struck me: why did this charlatan remind me of Johann Tetzel, the infamous indulgences seller? Perhaps it was the way the imam was selling us the idea of donations, much like Tetzel sold indulgences, promising spiritual rewards for monetary contributions.

The rest of my day was uneventful - enjoying the best burger in Paris, watching the Napoleon movie, and hanging out with friends. In a casual conversation, I attempted to google the mosque's imam to show a friend, and stumbled upon a shocking news article from Le Parisien (28-09-2023):

The imam of the Grand Mosque of Nanterre sentenced for breach of trust. Having been an imam for fifty years, Mohamed Boudjedi was found guilty this Thursday of embezzling funds from the two associations he chairs, nearly 200,000 euros in total. He has been sentenced to eighteen months in prison, suspended, and a fine of 60,000 euros.

https://www.leparisien.fr/hauts-de-seine-92/limam-de-la-grande-mosquee-de-nanterre-condamne-pour-abus-de-confiance-28-09-2023-XCLCX2PIYNGE3LRXJAAOOBNZGY.php

I believe this may well have been my final visit to a mosque.