A Journey of the Heart

Back in college, he sought out other Muslims and reexamined his commitment to the Koran, which the world's 1.2 billion Muslims believe is the literal word of God as revealed to the Prophet Mohammed.

"I was not inspired by the English translation of the Koran," Khan said. "It sounded archaic, old-fashioned, distant and not really practical for modern-day living. It seemed the reasonable thing to do was learn the Koran in Arabic so I can know for myself, without intermediaries, exactly what God said and how he said it."

So in 1980 he went to Egypt and then Saudi Arabia to study with Islamic scholars.

After five years he returned to Maryland with a mission: To help the youth who strayed from Islam, as many of his childhood buddies had.

With his wife, Samira, he founded Dar-Us-Salaam, which sprung from the Al-Huda School. The recently accredited school now has more than 340 students from kindergarten through eighth grade.

Though Khan now speaks Arabic fluently, he's concluded that the language, while critical, is not obligatory. After all, plenty of native Arab speakers do not heed the Koran, he said, and plenty of non-Arabic speakers submit fully to God's word, which is the literal meaning of the word "Islam."

"If somebody were to ask: Can I be a good Muslim without Arabic? I would say, you can be a fantastic Muslim, better than myself even," Khan said. "It's about the heart."

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The heart is what guides a Muslim through the hajj, which has drawn the faithful to Saudi Arabia for centuries, Khan said at one of his workshops. If the heart is filled with envy, hatred or ill will, it can do more damage than the sins of the body because the heart guides the body's actions. Keep your heart pure, he said.

He performed the hajj twice in 1980s and five more times since 2002, when he began guiding groups for RendezVous Travel, which has offices in Falls Church and the District. The agency's owner, Adel Faramawi, had known Khan's family for years and reconnected with him after hearing him speak at Dar-Us-Salaam. Faramawi asked Khan to join with him in leading RendezVous hajj trips, which cost $7,000 a person. (Khan does not collect a fee, but the agency covers his travel costs.)

"Before Safi Khan, we used an imam from Egypt and it didn't work very well," Faramawi said. "His English was not so good."

During the five-day pilgrimage, performing the prayers and rituals in Arabic can feel like rote recitation for many American Muslims seeking spiritual growth through the hajj. Khan's fluent English interpretations of the underlying traditions offer a bridge between two worlds.

"The hajj is an opportunity to audit yourself, look at all the things God has given you and determine if you could be more attentive to Him," Khan said. "Ask: Have I been heedless? How can I improve my commitment? What can I do with the time I have left?"

During the hajj in particular, the language unites, compels the pilgrims to obey and gets them into "the zone," said Ebrahim Moosa, a professor of Islamic studies at Duke University.

"It's really all about the alchemy of the words," Moosa said. "The most important thing is the sound, the primordial tone, the idea that exactly the same words that sounded before sound now."

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The Arabic words drove Safia Kadir to tears when she recited them one morning in her Silver Spring home: "Here I am at your service, O Lord, here I am -- here I am. No partner do you have. Here I am. Truly, the praise and the favor are yours, and the dominion. No partner do you have."

These are the words chanted on approach to the Kaaba, which Muslims believe Abraham and his son built as the first place of worship devoted to the oneness of God.

"I was weeping because of the idea that I'd be entering His house," said Kadir, an estate planning lawyer. "I just broke down. Then I thought: 'Safia, get ahold of yourself. You're going to be in front of all those people.' "

Kadir, 51, moved to this country from Pakistan in 1980. She was culturally exposed to Islam, but did not study it as much as she should have growing up, she said. She just stuck to what she describes as the basics: "Tell the truth. Don't sleep with guys. Don't drink, and fast during Ramadan."

But when a nephew suggested that they do the hajj together, she rounded up other family members and signed up for the trip with RendezVous Travel. She went to Khan's workshops and bought the books and packed the prayer "cheat sheet" he recommended.

"Suddenly, the whole process has gelled in my head," Kadir said. "It's like taking the bar exam. It's all coming together now. This is the feeling I got while listening to him."

At Dulles, Kadir hung out with her family at dawn, relaxed and laughing, ready for her 9 a.m. flight on Saudi Arabian Airlines. Then came the announcement. The flight would be delayed until 8 p.m. The group gave a collective sigh.

A few feet away, Khan was mingling with other pilgrims, and one of Kadir's relatives reminded her of what Khan said weeks earlier: "Brothers and sisters, please, the name of hajj is patience. You're not going to Saudi Arabia to straighten out the government of Saudi Arabia. . . . You're going there to make hajj. Whatever happens, be patient, let it go."