At Mosque and Synagogue, Reflecting on Good and Evil

Way up at the other end of Manhattan, miles from the smoldering graveyard, a pencil-thin minaret and a domed mosque mark the local center of Islam. Built with help from several Arab nations, the Islamic Cultural Center of New York is just two blocks from an Orthodox Jewish temple.

On Monday, while Sheikh Mohammad Gemeaha defended Islam, Rabbi Michael Shmidman was up the street, trying to capture the meaning of the new world in preparing his remarks for today’s Rosh Hashana services.

One neighborhood, two worlds. I take you first to the mosque, and then to the temple.

The Islamic center sits at the foot of Spanish Harlem, where American flags hang from windows and the bodegas sell Spanish-language newspapers with Osama bin Laden’s mug on the front. A half-dozen New York City cops patrolled the perimeter of the Islamic center Monday, and one trooper grumbled.

“Only in America do we guard the enemy,” said the brawny officer, who happens to be Jewish.

Behind him, articles of faith flashed like stock listings across the electronic message board at the entrance to the Islamic center. “The devils are supernatural creatures,” said one. “Some of them are virtuous, and some are wicked.”

Hundreds of Muslims come here daily, remove their shoes, and pray to Allah. Pakistanis, Kuwaitis, Palestinians, Tunisians and others. Five times a day, the street is a yellow chain of double-parked cabs while the drivers pray.

Gemeaha is the imam, or religious leader. He led me into his office and said there have been threats on himself and others since the attacks, in which Islamic fundamentalist Bin Laden has been named by President Bush as the prime suspect.

Many Americans are ignorant of Islam, Gemeaha said. They don’t realize that the very name is derived from the word “peace.” On Friday, in a speech attended by U.N. Secretary-General Kofi Annan, Gemeaha condemned the attack but defended Islam.

“To kill an innocent human being is more dangerous than the destruction of the universe,” he said Monday. “Human blood is sacred.”

Then why do terrorists kill in the name of Islam? I asked.

“They do not represent Islam,” he said.

But they fight what they call a holy war. So how can the Koran be interpreted as a call to kill innocent people in God’s name?

Fundamentalist terrorists do not interpret the Koran, Gemeaha said. “They misinterpret it.”

As of Sept. 11, 2001, that answer is no longer acceptable.

Every religion has its fanatics, and more people have died in the name of God than by any other cause. But when there are Islamic groups within the United States and around the world that demonize everything American, Islam’s mainstream has an obligation to do two things. First, confront them. And second, explore what it is about the religion that poisons some minds.

“Islam is a great and noble religion, and it is intended as a religion of peace,” said David Harris, executive director of the American Jewish Committee in New York. “But when a Muslim spokesman says that no good Muslim in the world supports what took place on Sept. 11, it’s very glib. In fact, it’s patently absurd.”

Exhibit A would be the dancing in the streets by Palestinians as thousands of Americans were targeted and killed for the high crime of reporting to work.

Two blocks away at Congregation Orach Chaim, Rabbi Shmidman said there is always concern about an act of terrorism during the High Holy Days, but more so now. He thinks the Sept. 11 attacks were aimed at American democracy, culture and wealth rather than at Judaism or pro-Israel foreign policy. But there were frayed nerves anyway as he organized his thoughts on the past week, the past year and the Jewish new year that begins today.

“Every street in the world is Jerusalem now, and every child goes to school in Belfast,” Rabbi Shmidman said. “Every year I pray that ‘May the past year, with all its suffering, end, and may the new year, with all its blessings, begin.’ In all my years as a rabbi, this has never been so true.”

He said he would issue a traditional challenge at Rosh Hashana services today, but in a city that has just learned how suddenly thousands of lives can be wiped out, it will be more poignant than ever.

“I want them to ask themselves: To what degree can I live a better life? Whether it’s more religious observance, more attention to family or better business ethics, I won’t say. I’ll leave that to each of them to decide.”

Rabbi Shmidman said he has no animosity toward the peaceable Muslims who pray down the street. In the new year, he said, and in the new world, it will be time for the synagogues and churches of the area to reach out to them.

“We all live in the house of God,” he said.

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Steve Lopez can be reached at steve.lopez@latimes.com.