not that particular spot. Mosques as a class are places the Law has sanctioned to be frequented: when someone heads to a mosque, he is not aiming for an immutable site whose name and ruling never change; his goal is simply to reach one of the houses of Allah. Were that building to be moved elsewhere, its ruling would move with it. For this reason hearts are attached to the kind of place—a mosque—not to any single structure.
Moreover, undertaking a journey for the purpose of holding taʿrīf at a given location resembles the pilgrimage, whereas the case of the town’s main mosque is different. Have you not heard the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, say,
“Do not set out on a journey except to three mosques: al-Masjid al-Ḥarām, al-Masjid al-Aqṣā, and this mosque of mine”?
On this point I know of no disagreement. The Prophet thus forbade traveling to any mosque other than those three.
It is also evident that a man’s coming to the mosque of his own town is either obligatory, such as for the Friday prayer, or recommended, such as for iʿtikāf.
Likewise, holding taʿrīf at a grave turns it into an ‘Eid, and that is forbidden in and of itself—whether or not one travels for it, and whether on the Day of ʿArafah or on any other day—for it combines a spatial festival with a temporal one.
As for the newly introduced practices during the festivals—blowing horns and beating drums—these are disliked on the ‘Eid and at other times alike; the censure is not confined to the festival. The same applies to wearing silk and other matters the Law has prohibited, as well as neglecting the Sunnah, for abandoning the Sunnah is itself a form of innovation. Consequently, the seasons of worship should be observed as the earliest predecessors observed them: with the prescribed prayer and sermon, the takbīr, giving charity at the end of Ramaḍān, and slaughtering on the Day of Sacrifice. Some people fall short in offering the legislated takbīr, and some imams omit giving the sermon to both men and women, as was