Why I Left Islam

Another provisional title for this post was, Why I No Longer Perform Islamic Rituals. But the first rule of the internet is that people read articles with clickbait titles, so…! But in all seriousness the title isn’t fully accurate because I hope to carry on doing to the best of my ability many of the things that I understand “A Good Muslim” should do, such as being kind, compassionate and charitable for example. Whether I actually succeed at these goals is for God to judge. And I do still believe in God. But I did stop praying salat quite some time ago and I didn’t fast during Ramadan this year.

I originally drafted this post during Ramadan when I saw a friend had posted on her Facebook wall as her thought for the day, “The older I get, the less interested I am in trying to fit into a box. I’m not interested in looking, speaking, or acting like people’s conception of a ‘good Muslim.’ Studying Islam has taught me that people’s standard aren’t representative of God’s standards. Seek knowledge.” I cried. Surely the worst ‘Bad Muslim’ is the one who leaves? But titles in quotes don’t matter, right? Besides, when have I ever fitted into a box?

Unlike several of my previous blog entries this one isn’t intended as a rant or a call to action, it’s merely a personal reflection of my experiences and shifting thought patterns. It also might usefully serve as a sort of FAQ in case people have questions, as I guess the news might be a surprise to some. And for this I’m sorry. During this current season of repentance (Yamim Noraim) I shall add to my prayers, “For the sin of not keeping in touch with friends and for not trusting in them to know my thoughts.”

Here’s a brief timeline of events:

2015, July

I first took more than a passing interest in Islam and begun regularly attending activities at mosque.

July 2015 – Apr 2017

Good times!

2017, May

Feeling sad instead of happy on the first day of Ramadan. First serious doubts emerged but it was a special time of year so I soon perked up.

2017, Winter

Terrible mental health. I stopped praying. “Stuck”.

2018, May

Ramadan again. I perked up a bit and took refuge in seeking the “spiritual” even though I wasn’t fussed about details of particular Qur’an verses.

2018, July

Started going to a Progressive synagogue…

For what it’s worth, my typical melodramatic internal “serious me” voice was really saddened by the thought of leaving “my people” (the Ummah), which is why I wasn’t able to do it for a year. Not to mention feeling guilty for letting people down, having been one of the few convert women in the mosque and getting all the attention (“Are you Muslim?”, “What’s your story?”). When I wanted to take a step back I quietly disappeared and bottled up my feelings. Then a couple of people wished me, “Ramadan Mubarak” a year later after I’d left and I just don’t like being two-faced so that’s why I’m finally writing something. Maybe this post is partly an attempt to reach out. I still like people and I miss them even though I’m unlikely to bump into them at mosque anymore.

You Started Practising an Entirely Different Religion!?

Yes. But… extending right back to 2015 and the emergence of my “God consciousness” I’d been researching Judaism and Islam in parallel all along. Over the course of the 3 years I’d become a regular at the university’s Jewish society’s Shabbat meals and I gradually started celebrating Chanukkah and Yom Kippur with JSOC and I’d already tried (with mixed success) to abstain from leaven on Passover. I’d started reading the Bible more and I started picking up a few Hebrew words from online courses. The most important things to me have always been that God is One; that the divine being plays an active role in our lives and yet doesn’t have a physical body we’re able to see; and that He is the most merciful. And this is supported by the tradition of Biblical stories, many of which are retold in the the Qur’an.

What Made You Drift Away from Islam?

I’ve put together several points here write I felt merited writing about. You could probably take any one of them and say that you know of a minority group of Muslims somewhere who believe something different from the mainstream view on one issue or another and perhaps that small group of Muslims wholly or partly agree with my view on some particular aspect. But I ended up feeling that I was holding minority viewpoints on so many different issues that I wasn’t any longer “on the same page” as the community and I pretty much ended up leaving the faith by accident! I’d been trying really hard to study these issues and others in depth and trying to make sense of it all with respect to the relevant verses in the Qur’an but it just became more and more confusing.

Lack of LGBT+ Rights, Etc.

To be fair, my Muslim friends never said anything unkind to me personally about my LGBT-ness during the vast majority of the time when we simply didn’t talk about it. But when we did talk about it all too often there was no getting around the issue that it was a “sin” in Islam (in many people’s opinions) and there was an inherent tension there. If I believed in Qur’an the implication was that I should believe it’s a “sin” too since most scholars agree with assertion. God made me trans and I simply don’t believe this “all merciful” God would want me to to torture myself by avoiding being who I am. I listened to lectures by Islamic scholars and they’d often speak negatively about LGBT and it became more and more triggering. I felt I couldn’t learn productively without feeling traumatized and eventually I completely lost trust in those who supposedly held the knowledge.

And then there’s the feminist inside of me, which also often got in the way of “submission” too. That said, I do know some amazing Muslims who are also feminists.

Rigid Literal Interpretations

Often Qur’an verses and hadith were taken literally and this was presented as the only correct interpretation. I’m more of a historical criticism person than a literal person. It’s hard to explain what I mean by this but basically I think context is just as important as wording. What kind of society was a verse revealed in? What things were the worshippers familiar with already? What problems did their society face? How would this revelation have changed things? How did they distinguish themselves from neighbouring nations? What are the equivalent (though not necessarily identical) issues today and how are things the same or different? Do the solutions need to be different or more nuanced too? How is this verse going to help us make the world a better place? What is its purpose? What style or genre is this piece of text written in? Who recorded it? What was their background? What was this writer’s personal take on things? What’s the allegorical meaning? The “spirit” of the rules often seems more important than the “letter” of how things worked millennia ago, when (for instance) a woman needing to be accompanied by a “male guardian” when she travelled might have seemed more reasonable than it does today.

In 2015 I was looking for a literal interpretation of something. I’d been through a rough patch and I’d made some mistakes and I didn’t trust my own judgement, so having a language of absolute requirements seemed good. I later realized that even a literal interpretation is still an interpretation (and a selective literal interpretation at that, because when was the last time you saw anyone given 100 lashes for adultery in Britain?) Reading texts is hard! The Qur’an mentions Jews and Christians in several places. Therefore, its context is a society where the people were familiar with Jewish and Christian ideas (at least partially), which leads neatly onto my next heading…

What Makes a Book Holy?

Technically Islam has more than one holy book. The Qur’an, obviously. But also listed are the Torah, Psalms, Gospel and Scrolls of Abraham. This is so important that it’s included as one of the Six Articles of Faith! This was big attraction for me, along with some other “inclusive” things like having belief in all the prophets. But when I mentioned I was reading the Bible and Qur’an in combination I was told, “But that book isn’t the real Torah. It’s been corrupted.” I was full of questions… Whereabouts are these modifications? Who made them? And what evidence is there that changes did indeed take place? I’m happy to discuss modern interpretations (such as the Documentary Hypothesis) and to consider the possibility that the text has evolved over time but on the basis of evidence rather than doctrine. How does one know the Qur’an is correct on everything, especially considering that book was written last? Isn’t it usual when studying history to attach more weight to sources which were written closer to the time when the events described took place? Ideally eye witness accounts would be great but they’re hard to come by. Should not the same procedure apply to analyzing Israel’s history? The most reliable accounts of Noah, Moses, David, etc. surely lie in what is preserved of Ancient Israel’s history and not in paraphrased versions from a later time period and a different place?

For example, the Qur’an blurs together the Tower of Babel, the Exodus and the Book of Esther Biblical stories into a single verse (see Haman in Islam). How are we supposed to make sense of such complex reimaginations of older narratives? I think there’s often a good deal of wisdom in revisiting the same material inside a different text and giving it a new presentation. For example, one reason for doing so is to shift the emphasis or to argue some particular point. In this case the way that Haman and Pharaoh share the same evil nature is an important literary point to make and the reality that they lived many centuries and hundreds of miles apart is just a detail. However, my vision of Muhammad as a wise man who did a lot of listening to Christians and Jews and tried to make sense of what he heard isn’t the primary position he occupies in Islam.

Also, is historical accuracy even the most important criterion? Should we even care whether it’s the Bible or the Qur’an which is the most accurate reflection of God’s word? I’ll leave that question with you but here’s a brief glimpse into my journey into trying to make sense of it all. We no longer live in times when the Jewish temple in Jerusalem is still in use in the way that it was in Biblical times (and there isn’t even much of it still standing). The exact words that God spoke thousands of years ago are important but in Judaism there are many layers of tradition and interpretation overlaid on top of that. And necessarily so because modern religions are mostly about connecting to God through important mechanisms like prayer and are not focused on things like the animal sacrifices which would have been more important and relevant in ancient times. It took me a long time to refocus my mind away from the idea promoted by protestants and Muslims that there’s one holy book and it’s 100% the word of God and that it’s totally without errors and that one book is all you need to understand religion. There are many different things in the Bible besides the Torah itself. There are books recording Jewish history, books of poetry and songs of praise. It’s a bit farcical to insist (as many evangelical Christians do) that all of this is prophecy and all of it is God’s word because it’s not. Humans definitely had a hand in creating large chunks of it (although ultimately God has a hand in creating all things too).

These are just my personal opinions. I don’t hold anything against people who do take things literally as long as they’re not using it to hurt others (which is an important caveat though). But I didn’t have the faith to do carry on upholding such a position myself.

I grew up in a Christian family, although I never felt a connection to the trinity and such like. The Bible (albeit the version with the Christian appendix) was our family’s holy book and that’s just kind of ingrained into me. When I heard things like, “Islam allows men to hit their wives”, I used to panic. “How can I believe in a book that contains something so awful? Surely, it doesn’t mean that? There must be more liberal interpretations out there that I can use to refute these Islamophobes in the media?” (Don’t worry, there is such an interpretation of this particular verse.) With the Hebrew Bible I don’t worry. There are some very challenging verses but I’m happy to park my concerns and hope that someday I will gain a fruitful understanding of the correct and compassionate way to make sense of and apply those verses.

I find my journey into trying to understand the Qur’an an interesting one. Not that I claim to have in any sense “completed” the task! Some things I read and reacted like, “I don’t remember that being in the Bible but it’s cool that Islam has that”. For example, take the story of Abraham and his father’s idol shop. I subsequently discovered that the same narrative is a very well known story in Judaism as well and that it’s recorded in a Jewish book that I’d never heard of prior to studying the Qur’an called Genesis Rabbah.

Letting Go of Jesus

I grew up in a Christian setting and although besides celebrating Christmas and Easter I didn’t engage with Christianity much, Jesus was still our family’s main man when it came to religious figures. Back in 2015 I wasn’t yet ready to fully let go of thinking of Jesus as a wise teacher. The materials that explain Islam to Non-Muslims emphatically mention that although Jesus isn’t divine in Islam he is a respected prophet. The Qur’an also mentions that he’s the Messiah. Those things sounded kind of reasonable even though I didn’t know much about what the messiah is supposed to be and I didn’t have a rigorous definition of how you tell if someone’s a prophet or not either. I’ve since learned that from a Progressive Jewish perspective the Messianic Age is more about humankind working together to create a better world and less about pinning all one’s hopes on waiting for a miracle worker to turn up. Here I’m reminded of the story of The Messiah at the Gates of Rome. Perhaps it still makes sense to say that Jesus was a teacher with a degree of wisdom in some capacity (but not a prophet). He got some things right and he got some things wrong but the bottom line is that being a false messiah claimant is a pretty big error to make! Sometimes people say that Judaism was the religion of Jesus whereas Christianity is the religion about Jesus (including how his followers interpreted him after his death). That sounds about right to me. If you look up Amy Jill Levine on YouTube then maybe you’ll get what I mean. She’s a bona fide Jew with a passion for the historical Jesus and his determination to help the poorest in society, etc.

Antisemitism

There were several instances but I’ll mention a simple example. Someone from mosque once told me, “Jews are pigs and monkeys. It’s in the Qur’an. You should look it up.” All I’d done was remark on how some aspect of Islam we were talking about (I forget what) is part of Judaism as well. Part of me wishes I’d stayed a Muslim specifically so that I could continue to stand up to and fight against that kind of bigotry in Islamic spaces. This wasn’t the biggest deciding factor though. In fact being LGBT wasn’t the deciding factor either. I’d made social connections with other LGBT Muslims and with some limited success I was living a successful life as a minority within a minority. If I’d really had rock solid belief in the Qur’an then maybe I could have remained practising. But after a while the hatred that I witnessed towards others did make me feel angry and bitter and sad and worn down the whole time. It was definitely a contributing factor. I just felt that I needed some time apart to meditate on my own thoughts and to reaffirm the principles that I believe in without listening to those negative narratives and without taking their claims about being rooted in scripture seriously.

I have met a whole new social group of Muslim women since leaving Islam through the Muslim-Jewish interfaith women’s network and they’re amazing women and really passionate about building bridges rather than destroying them, as I’m sure many of those at my old mosque were too but it only takes a few rotten apples to make a sour taste and I’m very glad that I didn’t let things come completely to an abrupt end on a low note but instead continued to seek out positive aspects.

So Are You a Jew Now?

No. Anybody can practice most aspects Judaism but nobody can unilaterally decide to be a Jew. There’s a process of guidance, learning and acceptance and ultimately appearing before a Beit Din (kind of like a Jewish version of a Sharia court). I haven’t formally applied to complete the process although it does look like it’s probably a matter of when rather than if. But only fools rush into these things. Yes, I am referring to my former self as a fool! My main objective now is to learn as much as possible before making a fully informed decision. But the preparatory classes are going really well. And being invited to take part in Simchat Torah (“Rejoicing of Torah”), Purim spiel (acting out the story of Esther) and a communal Passover seder have been particularly powerful moments. And being accepted fully as both a queer person and a person of faith has been really important. How elated I was when there was a ceremony for a gay couple’s baby blessing!

I actually like that it’s impossible to become Jewish without going through a process of studying the basics and participating in the community for a substantial amount of time first. The time required is a minimum of one year and time flies past so quickly that actually I’d already be eligible to push forward onto the next stage of my application if I wanted to and if I put in the required effort (I need to write some essays). But I’ve chosen to wait a bit longer and the Rabbi and everyone else are happy with my decision. There is no equivalent of dawah or missionary work in Judaism so there’s no pressure to convert, there’s no persuasion and there’s no upselling of just the best bits. So many people who met me at mosque for the first time used to ask, “Are you Muslim?” that after a while I reflected on the fact that I was participating and making the right steps forward and doing all the right things as best as I could in exactly the same way as they were. And I knew that the only requirement for becoming a Muslim is to recite a short statement of faith that’s just one sentence long and I also knew that this statement is included in the daily prayers. I therefore concluded that if I meant my prayers sincerely then I’d already become Muslim and so after a few months I started saying, “Yes” to people’s questions. I never bothered with a public conversion ceremony. My understanding is that a public ceremony is optional. I sincerely meant what I said at the time but it did all happen too quickly.

What Do You Miss?

I miss people. I miss meeting the friends whom I used to see at the mosque. And I miss the community on campus, especially eating with same people every night for the month of Ramadan and especially because during the years when I really threw myself into learning as much about Islam as I could I also cut back on other social activities. Of course the synagogue is it’s own community and a jolly nice one too, but the vibe is different: less studenty, more middle class, fewer people my age, and I generally see people once a week rather than several times a day. The harmony between people of different generations is a new experience and really great, from young children right up to those in their 90s. I’m just not sure why there are so few people in the 18–40 bracket. Things are different but good.

I miss the times when sometimes people would do really simple but powerfully spoken sermons that contained only a small amount of theology but which worked rather well as calls to action. I mean the kind of sermon that ends with a message like, “If Allah can do all this and be so merciful because so and so did such and such small thing, then think about how much we have erred because often we don’t love Allah enough to even do that small thing and He’s waiting there, waiting to forgive us if we try.” The kind of “highbrow” “critical” stuff I am fan of can get a little bit much if it’s all the time.

I miss praying five times a day. Okay, to be honest I suck at discipline and for the most part outside of Ramadan I only managed between two and four times. But somewhere in the dark winter of 2017 I almost lost any appreciation of my connection to God completely and I stopped praying because the ritual Islamic prayers didn’t feel right and I wasn’t sure what to say to God. I’d like to find the motivation to regularly pray 3 times a day again (the number of Jewish prayer times) because I did find benefit in daily prayer, but recently I’ve lapsed on that. Of course being disciplined is even harder without the threat of being reminded with images of an eternal hell fire looming for those who disobey.

On a more lighthearted note, I miss being reminded to exercise my damaged painful hip with bowing movements (rukū`) before it seizes up even worse.

Any Unexpected Gains?

Yes. I’ve found renewed delight in learning small bits of Arabic in my spare time now that I don’t “have to” do it for the sake of Allah (or for the sake of practical issues like understanding the prayers and sermons). Fortunately, I enjoy learning Hebrew too. It helps that the emphasis is on understanding the meanings of the words and the grammar and practical language learning things rather than being focused on memorizing verses without understanding.

I’ve kind of got my own narrative going on centered around my own personal journey through the “wilderness” as a journey and a path trodden and a time in my life that wasn’t not entirely wasted, despite the fact that the closest I’ve been to the deserts of Arabia is a mosque in the UK. I’m a stickler for trying to perfect my Hebrew pronunciation, reflecting the kind of attention to detail that was encouraged by my former tajweed teacher. I like to speak in an old-fashioned style associated with older Jews from Syria, which is closer sounding to Arabic than most westerners’ Hebrew accents. Instinctively to me a K (כּ) is a different letter from Q (ק), with a different pronunciation, at least in my personal practice at home but obviously not when singing in congregation. Maybe I’m a bit obstinate and silly but at least it helps me remember the spellings of the words better while my classmates sometimes confuse kol (“all” or “every”) with qol (“voice”). I actually had a eureka moment a while back, because I never could remember which letters are pronounced idhhār after the nūn in Arabic but then I revisited it and quickly said to myself, “Oh, it’s the guttural letters, as we call them in Hebrew!”

My favourite scholar? Maimonides of course, who was born in Islamic Spain and later lived in exile in North Africa. Sometimes we’re invited to decide if we’re following the Ashkenazi or the Sephardi minhag (a slight variation in custom) on some particular point. My favourite response is, “Tell me more about the Sephardi (‘Spanish’) one first please. And do you know if there are any further variations for Mizrachi (‘Eastern’)?” Another conversational topic is whether we’ve picked up any Yiddish or Ladino words. They are both fine options to learn but the one I’d really like to get into is Judeo-Arabic. My favourite short story in the Torah? The one where Jethro / Yitro the Midianite from Northern Arabia and also Moses’ father-in-law comes and gives Moses some advice and they collaboratively work together to solve a practical problem.

Also, the inclusion of singing in worship is surprisingly fun. I regularly find myself singing the tunes at home in my kitchen!

Anything Else?

The original draft of this post had, “Ramadan Mubarak” written here, which is a message that’s passed it’s expiry date. But all the positive vibes to people of all faiths and none, but especially to Muslims! Also, thank you to every Muslim who showed me kindness and encouraged me to try to become a better person. Just day to day stuff where we’re trying to be conscious of God keeping his eye on us and supporting each other to make sure that each we do the right thing is important. In my opinion that’s actually much more important than academic arguments about ancient books. And thank you to every new person who entered my life during 2015–18 and was a friend to me. I hope I was an adequate friend to you.

I also have a little interfaith note to end with. This Wednesday (9th Oct) is Yom Kippur, which is day on the Jewish calendar known to Muslims as Ashura when Muhammad met a group of Jews who were fasting and commanded that Muslims should fast as well. The Jewish calendar and the Muslim calendar shift in and out of sync with one another in a somewhat similar fashion to how the Muslim and Christian calendars do, so I recognise that many Muslims have already commemorated this day last month.