why i believe in Islam?

[Scented Nectar]

Here's an interesting blog article I found just now at The Godless Monster.
http://thegodlessmonster.com/2010/05/29/once-a-muslim/

Once a Muslim…
By godlessmonster

I don’t know how many times in the past I’ve had other Arabs ask me if I was Muslim, but it’s been a lot. My response used to be, “Yes, but I don’t go to the mosque anymore.” Usually that answer, although not ideal, would suffice. At least I wasn’t an apostate. Allah forbid!

Years before I became an atheist, however, I decided to make a clean break with Islam and deny it outright to others if asked. If I told a Muslim that I used to be one of them, but was not a Muslim any longer, the reaction would typically be, “Oh no, no, no, no, no! Once a Muslim, ALWAYS a Muslim! You can never go back!”

My response would invariably be something akin to, “Yeah, I get a lot of that now…anyway, give me 10 bucks on pump 6, please.”

I remember the first time I learned about the “Once a Muslim, Always a Muslim” thing. It was from a friend of my father’s (we’ll call him”Mr. A”) who taught “Sunday school” at the mosque. Back in the day, when there weren’t many Muslims on this side of the pond, we had to attend mosque on Sunday. Kind of a “when in Rome” thing we had going on there at the time. But I digress…

Mr. A was standing in front of the class, going on and on about how glorious it was to be a Muslim and what a privilege it was, etc. when one of the kids raised their hand. “Yes, you have a question?” asked Mr. A. The kid asked, “What if you don’t want to be Muslim?”

“Oh…this is a very important question! Does anybody know the answer? Who knows?” asked Mr. A.

Of course, as all of us were about 8 years old, none of us knew shit.

“Okay, I will give you the answer! You can never leave Islam. You would never want to leave anyway! It is the most wonderful gift in the world to be a Muslim, so if you do leave, the punishment is death.”

I sat there stunned. It was the first of many “What the fuck!?” moments I was to have while attending mosque. At 8, I didn’t even know the word “fuck” of course, but you get my drift.

Being a half-breed and attending Catholic services put me dangerously close to being an apostate, if indeed I wasn’t already. As far as I knew, I WAS an apostate. I was probably an apostate to the Catholics as well, but they didn’t want to kill me…just kick the ever-loving shit out of me during recess (as I was to later learn in 5th grade). I was a religious double-agent.

I became obsessed with the whole idea of being killed for the sin of apostasy and later asked Mr. A who would do the actual killing, if for example, I was to betray Islam? Would it be Allah or would it be a person? I don’t remember his answer, but I do recall that he squirmed uncomfortably and basically sidestepped the whole question.

Allah seemed to have his people do all his work for him, so I eventually came to the conclusion on my own that if I was found out, it would be someone I knew who would kill me. Would it be Mr. A? The imam? One of the scary looking guys from the old country? Would they hurt my daddy? My stomach hurt all day on Sundays.

After a few years, I figured nobody at my mosque was going to be killing me for attending Catholic Church on Sunday, but I never volunteered the information to anyone.

Ever.

Just in case…