"There are angry people out there who have had bad experiences at mosques or have had people judge them," the 34-year-old said. "People have been disengaged with Islam for a long time because they don't think it's for them.

"Now, finally, there's something going on where people think, 'Wow, this is something I can belong to.'"

American Islam rising

Such issues have grown in urgency as the nation's Muslim population has risen in recent years, largely through immigration, to between 3 million and 6 million people.

A 2001 study of U.S. mosques conducted by the Council on American-Islamic Relations, a nonprofit advocacy group, portrayed a fractured community.

It found that only 15 percent of prayer participants at mosques are women, and just 400,000 people -- or at most 13 percent of the U.S. Muslim population -- attended mosque services regularly.

"The existing organizations speak only for a small number of Muslims," Nassef said.

Muslim leaders such as Syed Kamal, board president of the Islamic Center of Livermore, say fewer women pray regularly at mosques because religious tradition does not require them to do so, as it does for men. In fact, he said women play a significant role at his mosque and make up half of its eight-person board of directors.

Mosque leaders do want to reach out to more local Muslims, he said, although several dozen men and a handful of women come daily for prayers. "We want to have more members, and we try to do that," he said. "But people might not be coming because they might be involved in maintaining their socio-economic lives. It has nothing to do with what we're doing."

Since 2003, Nassef has made waves with his popular Web site Muslim WakeUp by dealing frankly with hot topics such as sexuality among Muslims, misogyny and religious fundamentalism.

Last November, Nassef and others launched the Progressive Muslim Union of North America, a New York-based group demanding reform in mosques and other institutions. On March 18, the group helped organize a prayer in New York City led by a woman, Professor Amina Wadud, breaking with centuries of tradition that reserved such duties for men.

Reclaiming Islam?

Omid Safi, a Colgate University associate professor who edited a much-read book titled "Progressive Muslims," said he and others want to challenge attitudes and practices that result from interpretation and not religious dogma.

Among those are rules that prohibit women from leading prayers, separate men and women worshippers in mosques and denounce gays and lesbians as sinners, he said in an interview.

In the book's introduction, Safi writes Muslims must open debate, start talking to each other and try to bridge deep divisions in the religion.

"It may not be an exaggeration to state that unless we succeed in doing so, the humanity of Muslims will be fully reduced to correspond to the caricature of violent zealots painted by fanatics from both inside and outside the Muslim community," Safi writes.

Through all the turmoil, he writes, people are losing sight of what the religion actually teaches: a commitment to serving the less fortunate and an appreciation for the oneness of humanity and God.

By reclaiming the religion, progressive Muslims can also take it back from those who use it to justify suicide attacks and other violence, Safi said.

The Sept. 11, 2001, attacks helped accelerate what had already been a growing movement, he writes in his book.

He and his colleagues said they find common cause with those who oppose U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East but believe standing up to injustice doesn't mean mass violence.

"It's about transforming the religion so that it lives up to its highest standards," Safi said. "It's about saying you don't get to be a fuller human being at the expense of another."

Nassef, Safi and other progressives have stirred anger, even among U.S. Muslims who believe reform is due. Organizers of the March 18 woman-led prayer were forced to move the event to another site after receiving death threats. On Wednesday, Libyan dictator Moammar Gadhafi mentioned the prayer at an Arab summit in Algeria, saying it violated Islam and would inspire terrorism.

Several East Bay Muslims interviewed for this story declined to be photographed, saying the topic was too incendiary and they didn't want to be linked too closely to the debate.

"This is a topic that generates a lot of emotion, and I don't feel comfortable putting my face on it," said Pleasant Hill resident Mehria Albert, a Muslim from Afghanistan.

Some said they were reluctant even identifying themselves as Muslims in a post-Sept. 11 atmosphere that they thought was hostile to the religion.

"It's a scary climate just to be a Muslim in this country," said recent convert Sylvia Chan.

Community divisions

Muslim critics, who include civil rights activists, traditionalist scholars and others, say progressives are dividing the community just when it needs to unify and defend itself. Hamid Algar, a UC Berkeley Islamic studies professor, said the group is using the religion to support a secular social agenda.

"There is a need for change and a need for more participation, but the so-called progressive Muslims are not in a place to lead," Algar said. "They are cultural Muslims but their commitment to Islam as a religion is another matter."

Some wonder whether outsiders are supporting the progressive Muslim movement hoping to weaken the community, said Samina Faheem, a Palo Alto-based activist who has spoken out against U.S. government treatment of U.S. Muslims.

"People are questioning their reasons," she said. "They wonder who's behind them."

The issues of gender roles in mosques and gays and lesbians divide many young Muslims, even those associated with the progressive Muslim movement. Several East Bay Muslims said gender segregation in mosques is a centuries-old tradition and should not be changed. They also said the religion explicitly condemns homosexuality.

"I don't think it's appropriate for a woman to lead prayers from the men's section to both men and women," said Amir Hussain, a Cal State Northridge religious studies professor who contributed an essay about pluralism to Safi's book. Safi himself argues for just such a role for women in mosques.

"There's a gender segregation that's implicit in the religion," Hussain said. "That's one of the passages where not everyone agrees. And that's OK."

Living the religion

Albert said she doesn't characterize herself as progressive or belonging to any other category.

"I'm just a Muslim woman who was born as a Muslim who is very open-minded about religion and other religions," she said. "I'm a Muslim who lives in a non-Islamic culture. So I go with the traditions of the culture."

After immigrating to the United States about 15 years ago, Albert married a non-Muslim American whom she met in a San Francisco bookstore. Her husband converted to Islam before they married, she said.

As dictated by her religion, she tries to pray regularly and avoids eating pork, but she said other rules of the religion such as whether women are allowed to lead prayers are fluid.

"If a woman is capable and in the position to lead, I have no problem with that," she said. "There is a difference between religion and culture, and sometimes, people mix up the two and stamp it as religion."

For Chan, a UC Berkeley graduate student in Asian-American and African-American studies who converted to the religion last June, its teachings, particularly about social justice, are a source of daily discovery. She thinks more about whether she is acting out of selfish motives and is more careful about what she says.

"You think about, 'What am I reading? What causes am I supporting? How am I spending my money?' It changes your relationship with the world. You're very cognizant of your actions all the time. You have to be sure you're OK with what you do. Because you have a responsibility not just to a deadline or work but a bigger responsibility to how you are in this world."

Fremont resident Nausheem Ali's daily life is a mix of her religion, which she inherited from her Pakistani family, and her busy professional life.

The American-born, 25-year-old real estate broker works 10 hours a day, reaping the rewards of the Silicon Valley's hot housing market.

Despite her hectic schedule, Ali prays five times a day. At business meals, she avoids alcohol and food off limits to Muslims such as meats not prepared according to Islamic custom.

When she attends prayers at mosques, usually on major holidays such as Eid, she worships in a women's section partitioned from the main prayer hall, often without a view of the imam, or mosque leader.

Gender separation in prayer spaces is tradition, she said, but many mosques also exclude women from their boards and committees.

"In the majority of mosques, decisions are made by groups with male majorities," Ali said. "There needs to be more dialogue between men and women. But I don't see it as just because no women are on a board, that means they have less power."

Perceived gender inequalities in mosques also bother Noor's husband, Farhan Memon, a law student at Golden Gate University in San Francisco. Memon is also leader of American Muslims Intent on Learning and Activism.

"When 90 percent of the space is occupied by men, and women are next to the bathroom, there are definitely issues," said Memon, who has worked as a journalist.

A self-described political progressive, Memon reflects both Bay Area liberal and Islamic perspectives. While supporting more rights for women in mosques, he is uncomfortable with them serving as prayer leaders.

He backs liberal causes such as affirmative action and opposed the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq. Yet he sides with U.S. conservatives on matters he believes are dictated by Islamic tradition such as disapproving of gays and lesbians and championing states' rights to restrict access to abortions.

"By and large, I agree a lot with the left in American politics," he said. "But some people are masking secularism in Islamic garb. They're not trying to recapture religion as it was revealed."

A space of their own

In the early-1990s, a few dozen young Bay Area U.S. Muslims alienated from mosques and other institutions formed AMILA, a group where they could worship and socialize.

They met at one another's houses -- or, in some cases, dorm rooms -- and shared the joys and pains of being Muslim in the United States. Many were born in the country to immigrant parents.

"We wanted to articulate what it meant to be an American Muslim," said former Bay Area resident Shahed Amanullah, who joined the group a decade ago. "There were a lot of values we felt weren't being discussed in the mosques -- gender, involvement in the community."

Those topics are still being discussed at the group's monthly meetings, including the forum in February at Stanford University on progressive Muslims, which featured Nassef and other speakers.

The ideas brought up by Nassef's Web site and the book edited by Safi have reverberated throughout AMILA and the community at large, Noor said.

For so long, many young Muslims have felt shut out by institutions that discourage debate and instead preach unquestioned allegiance to traditions, she said. Now, finally, a debate is under way.

"All over the world, that book is being read in book groups. People are engaging with that book whether they agree with it or not, which is a healthy sign. Respectful debate is something our community really needs."