Familiar feeling as the Masjid Al-Baqi, a Bethpage mosque, welcomes me
People watching a lecture at the Bethpage mosque. Credit: Newsday / Randi F. Marshall
I've spent many Friday evenings celebrating Shabbat, joining friends and family for prayer, discussion and a meal, bonding over shared joy and hope.
But on a recent Friday, I joined a different community for prayer, discussion and a meal, bonding through their own joy and hope.
As the men, women and children of the Masjid Al-Baqi, a mosque in Bethpage, welcomed me, sharing with me their imam's words, their food, their conversation and their community, it all felt so familiar, and yet also so remarkable.
The mosque's members gather daily in a pair of nondescript, small buildings, separated only by a small parking lot, at a busy corner at Stewart and Central avenues, where the mosque has been located since 1998. In cramped, crowded spaces, generations of Long Islanders from Bethpage, Massapequa, Plainview and beyond teach, learn, and eat together. They celebrate and mourn. And they pray.
On that recent Friday evening, their imam, Kamil Sakhi, of Massapequa, spoke of the need for compassion, mercy and peace. The message was universal, one that could have been shared in any synagogue that Friday night, or any church that Sunday.
But it was a particularly appropriate message for that mosque, at that moment.
For years, the members of the Masjid Al-Baqi have sought to construct a new, larger building. For years, they've faced delays and pushback. Earlier this year, the mosque's owners, Muslims on Long Island Inc., sued the town. In August, the town agreed to a settlement — only to back out days later.
The town cites traffic and safety concerns. Neither is a real issue. The reality is a darker story, underscored by area residents' ugly, sometimes racist commentary, often directed at their own neighbors.
Even facing that darkness, the mosque's tight-knit community shines, as it searches for a way forward.
That isn't easy.
On that Friday night, in a small, carpeted room, men sat on the floor, cross-legged, their shoes left outside, as the lecture continued. With no way to maintain the required separation of men and women in the small space, the women stayed in the mosque's other building, where they heard the imam via a speaker system. Worshippers then transformed their space into one for a meal, placing blue plastic coverings on the carpeting, and bringing in trays of bread, salads, rice and meat. Afterward, they transformed the room again, readying it for weekend and after-school children's classes, where multiple age groups learn simultaneously, the sounds separated only by thin curtains.
The mosque's members, whose cultural connections weave from a mix of primarily Bangladeshi, Indian, Pakistani and Afghan heritages, aren't asking for new space to add hundreds of new worshippers. They just want an appropriate religious home for their existing community — a community no different than yours or mine.
That shouldn't be too much to ask.
"Even though you may think that we're different, we're the same people," said Melville resident Sana Tokhi, 13. "We just want to have our place as well."
Nearly 10 years ago, Moeen Qureshi, 41, moved to Bethpage from New Jersey because it met his family's two central needs: a good school district — and a mosque.
"This is a great town for anybody and everybody to raise their kids and I think the [new] mosque would be a great addition," he said. "It's going to be another gem in the town."
Yes, a new building could be a gem. But the community inside the old one already is. And members like Sultana Shaik, a Bethpage mom of three, invite their neighbors and elected officials to see that for themselves.
"I really want them to come here," Shaik said. "Talk to us. We can show them, too."
Columnist Randi F. Marshall's opinions are her own.
Randi Marshall is a member of the Newsday editorial board.
