Goodbye, Moe

Moe was a regular fixture in our neighborhood. Fiercely devoted to his beloved Philadelphia Flyers, commonly spotted with a can of beer or mowing his lawn, he was a devoted father to his two daughters, and partner to his wife, our friend Heather.

But today, at Moe’s funeral, it was clear that in some ways, he was different. After all, Moe is short for Mohammed.  He was Muslim.

The incongruity of this Muslim service being held in an Irish funeral home was startling. People were unprepared for the request to take off their shoes, revealing many a pair of white socks under black suits. No one expected to sit on the floor. Most everyone in our blue-collar suburb comes from the Irish Catholic tradition. I could almost feel the wheels turning in the heads of those that only knew Mo peripherally; if HE was a Muslim, then perhaps…

Most folks sat with their feet tucked under them in the position of prayer. Moe’s uncle led the service. A family friend sang verses from the Koran, which other family members then read in translation. This verse, known as the Light Verse, stood out in my mind.

Allah is the light of the heavens and the earth! His light, in terms of a similitude, is like a niche in which there is a lamp–the lamp is in a glass, the glass as if it were a brilliant star–that is being kindled by [the oil of] a blessed olive tree that is neither [of the] eastern nor [of the] western [side]: its oil would all but light up, even though no fire touched it. Light upon light! Allah guides to His light whomever He wishes. And Allah strikes similitudes for people. And Allah has knowledge of everything.

Then Moe’s aunts sang, tremulously, several hymns without accompaniment, beautiful and sad.

Moe kept his faith close and quiet; why wouldn’t he, in these times? I didn’t meet him until six years ago but I know that Heather told me they were turned away from our local pool club because of his faith, right after 9/11. But today over two hundred friends and neighbors attended the funeral, most from right here in our town.

As I watched the faces of those attending, I realized that Moe was leaving us all with an unexpected gift. The realization that while religions and cultures differ, grief is universal.

Goodbye, Moe. Assalaamu alaykum.