Knowledge is Light (and hearts are candles)

salams to whoever reads...

I phoned my Grandma in South Africa yesterday for Mi'raj - kind of a family tradition, though I really should phone more often! The formidable old lady, now 81 and going strong, was my very first teacher of deen - may Allah reward her abundantly for teaching me 'alif, ba tha,' and, 'awwal kalima tayyab.'

She was - of course - deliriously excited to speak to me and, between informing (several times each) about the whereabouts and circumstances of our ever-widening family diaspora, she imparted some precious information.

Nothing that you or I would call spectacular - simple advice like, 'say bismillah before you do anything,' 'sleep and wake up with the shahada,' and so forth. Yet it had a profound effect on me - as much as the words of any shaykh.

Strange thing was, I repeated what she had said to my wife not a few hours later, and it fell flat. It just didn't have the same 'zing' to it when I retold it. And - being me - I gots me to thinking why... How many times have many of us experienced this? You can't tell it the way the shaykh/imam/teacher did? Your words don't have the same impact on others that their's did on you? You just had to be there?

The way of acquiring spiritual benefit from people is not through their words; but from their states. It is a two-fold process: our connection to them, and their connection to their Lord. The latter is a pathway for Divine wisdom; which is knowledge that melts hearts and enraptures souls, whose traces fundamentally affect behaviour. Their hearts are candles lit by the Divine out of His blessed providence.

The former requires that one's own heart be open to theirs. When Allah's rain is falling, we cannot benefit if the containers of our hearts are sealed shut. There are many people - if not most - to whom our hearts are closed, for we have no connection to them - connections such as love and respect. But those to whom they are open, will affect us with the simplest of their words - no, even their stillness and silence, their looks or gestures, their very presence or absence.

My heart is open to my beloved grandmother; and her's - after a lifetime of worship and unfailing service - is open to Allah's. She is not learned by the standards that most of us have. She does not quote hadith; she has forgotten most of her Quran; she was taught her fiqh 70 years ago. But she has a state with Allah, a secret so secret that perhaps even she does not know it. And she told me to say 'bismillah.'

Mi'raj Mubarak. May Allah bless you, and her, and forgive me, and her.
Talib

A maths problem

salams

my daughter Noor (7) chirps up with a comment during math's homework:

'Islam is like a math's problem. Allah is the answer, Rasulullah (s) is the example. To get to the answer, you have to do one step at a time, following the example. It's easy if you do it that way, but if you don't, you get the answer wrong.'

verbatim...

alhamdu lillah. Clearly takes after her mother... :)

Heartsong

Hear now my heartsong
My heart calls to you
That you guide me, my Lord
Through my soul's long dark night.

I send my heartsong
Across the empty silences
To you. May you fill me
With peace and with light.

The Journey of Man

Insan – The Journey From Forgetfulness To Communion

NB: It is important for those not well-acquainted with Arabic to be aware that the majority of Arabic words are mushtaqq – or derived from a basic root (the mushtaqq minhu). For example, the word ‘mustaqim’ (straight or upright) is derived from the word ‘qama’ (to stand up), from which the word ‘qaum’ (people) is also taken.

Part 1 - Language and Meaning

Language is the primary tool through which human beings express thought. The attribute of speech is Divine in its origin, and is furthermore one of the Core Attributes of Allah (Ummahat as-Sifat). The ability to express rational thought is the defining characteristic of humanity; and so for language to be effective, it must be able to express a shared meaning. The sciences of language, including etymology, are well established among scholars of language and tafsir, such that one finds a 15 volume commentary (al-Bahr al-Muhit) devoted exclusively to the linguistic and grammatical analysis of the Quran.

From works like this it becomes clear that some important words in Arabic have root meanings that point to the reality of their spiritual meaning. For example, the word for ‘gold’ (dhahab) is derived from the word that means ‘to leave’; the word for ‘silver’ (fidda) comes from the word ‘to scatter’; the word dunya means ‘lowly and contemptible’, whilst the word dirham contains sorrow and anxiety (hamm). Thus gold is always leaving, silver scatters, dirhams bring worry, and the world is base and low. The word ‘din’ (religion) on the other hand, is very closely related to the word ‘dayn’ (debt) – thus we may say that ‘din is how one repays one’s dayn to Allah.’ It is for this reason that the majority of scholars of the Arabic language believe that it is ‘taufiqi’ or ‘divinely gifted’ – something that should be studied and contemplated over.

Part 2 - Insan as Forgetfulness

Another word that certainly bears contemplation is the word for human – insan. This word relates to both men and women, and refers to, ‘the animal that talks (or is capable of rational thought).’ It has two possible root meanings – and as we have seen, the root meaning (mushtaqq minhu) often points to the spiritual reality (haqiqa) of a concept. The first of these root words is ‘nisyan,’ which means ‘forgetfulness.’ This is the basic state of humanity. It is something about which Allah repeatedly remarks in the Quran – ‘we have created man forgetful,’ ‘man is ever forgetful.’ My shaykh used to tell us, ‘the child is born in remembrance of Allah; it is we who make them forget,’ which (as with many of the things Hazrat says) is a direct interpretation of a hadith of Rasulullah (s): ‘every child is born in a state of fitra; it is the parents that make them Muslim, or Christian, or Jew.’ The child comes from a realm of spirituality and remembrance (`alam al-arwah), into a realm of forgetfulness and illusion (`alam al-dunya). Its spiritual eyes are open, but as it spends more time among us – people of forgetfulness – it is continuously distracted by the bright lights and shiny toys of this world, until its spiritual eye closes and it enters a state of forgetfulness.

Ultimately, our disobedience to – and distance from – Allah arises from this state of forgetfulness. We forget why we have been placed on this earth – which is to attain ma`rifa (direct experiential knowledge) of Allah; we forget that we are always in his presence and under his gaze, and so do not feel ashamed to be sinful, either in secret or in person, whether by word, action or quality. We forget, too, that He is the ‘Knower of the secrets of every heart,’ and pass the vast majority of our lives in heedlessness. The cure to this basic state of the human experience is by struggling against the lowly human nature (nafs al-ammara bi’ su) by opposing heedlessness with its opposite – continuous remembrance (dhikr). This is the reason that the Sufi Masters emphasise dhikr to such a degree, in obedience to the command of Allah, ‘and remember Allah perpetually.’[1] Muhyi ad-Din ibn al-`Arabi in ‘al-Wasaya’ (the Wise Counsel) states:

Encumbent upon you is the Greatest Jihad, which is the unceasing battle against the nafs ... when Allah says, ‘battle the disbelievers closest to you,’ he is referring [via isharat an-nass – subtle indication] to the worst type of kufr – the disbelief of the nafs that passes every moment in forgetfulness and heedlessness (ghafla)...

It is precisely this state of nisyan or ghafla that the Sufis have recognised as the most prevalent and insidious form of disbelief, and this which they spend their lives struggling against. The aim and consequence of this struggle against the forgetful nature of humanity is to return back to the primordial (original) state of humanity, which is the true reality of the human soul, that by which Allah has said, ‘we have most certainly honoured the children of Adam.’ Insan – mankind – are all the children of Adam, thus the secret of the (potential) honouring of humanity above all of creation arises from something within the very nature of humanity itself. It is this spiritual reality (haqiqa) of humanity that is uncovered by contemplation upon the other root of the word insan – which is uns.

Part 3 - Insan as Communion

Uns is ‘intimate communion,’ and refers to the feeling of unbridled joy and ecstasy that one feels when in the presence of one who is loved completely and unconditionally. It is the joy of being in seclusion with the Beloved. As the nature of human experience is to progress from the known to the unknown, and from the perceptible to the imperceptible, Allah gives us the capacity to experience this feeling of uns in a variety of ways: with our spouses[2], our children[3], then our shaykh, then with Rasulullah (s). All this is gifted to us, as we progress in spiritual stages, through sacrifice and struggle against the nafs, so that we can ultimately enter the sanctified presence of Allah (hadara al-Qudsiyya). This was the state of our Beloved Master, Sayyidina Muhammad (s), when he said, ‘I have a time [alone in seclusion] with my Cherisher upon which no prophet-messenger nor angel-brought-near may intrude.’

This is the state – of intimate communion – that comes with what in Sufi terminology is called ma`rifa billah – direct experiential knowledge of Allah. It is also what is described in the Gibril Hadith as al-ihsan – ‘to worship Allah as though you were seeing him.’ More specifically, uns is the subjective experience of the presence of Allah – an allusion to the indescribable joy and delight that fills all of the senses, the mind and the soul, when all of the temporal world falls away and one is left alone in the ineffable presence of the Creator of all. It is a re-enactment of the state of Rasulullah (s) when he passed beyond the Lote-Tree, leaving his guide Gibril behind, and entered unto that which, ‘no eye can see, no ear can hear told, and no heart can comprehend,’ a state so awe-inspiring, rarified and elevated that even the Quran speaks about it in allusive terms,

‘He approached and drew closer, till he was at the Qaba Qausain, or even closer; and His Lord inspired him with whatever he desired. His heart did not lie or misinterpret what he saw ... Behold! The Lote Tree was shrouded by [unspeakable mystery], yet his eye did not waver, nor transgress; and He saw the greatest signs of His Lord.’

This state of uns is one that cannot be described by one who has not experienced it personally, just as one who is in love cannot describe it to one who is not. Yet its sweetness can be guessed or approximated by the mixture of awe and love that one feels in the presence of sanctity and spiritual illumination – on our case, in the presence of the perfected shaykh. In the case of the latter, on the other hand, the uns continues to rise in levels: through fana fi ash-shaykh through fana fi ar-Rasul, until one eventually arrives at the state of fana fi-Allah: the intimate communion with Allah – which has been called, 'the Tur [where Musa spoke to Allah] and Mi`raj of the Knowers of Allah.'

As muridin, we need to understand the sacrifice that our shuyukh make; for in spending all their time dealing with our problems, they are denying themselves the sweetness of communion with Allah. Khwaja Nasir ad-Din Chiragh used to say, ‘Oh Burhan! If I had not been commanded by our master to remain here, you and I would never have met, for I would have been wandering in solitude among the mountains and rivers.’ A contemporary Sufi master of Syria, Shaykh Ibrahim al-Ya`qubi, said, ‘if not for [people seeking] knowledge, I would not meet anyone.’ This is because, when such elevated people enter this state, then – as ibn `Ata’illah in his Hikam states:

‘when Allah opens for you the door of uns b’illah,
you will never find sweetness in any other company.’

Part 4 - Summary

This ‘U-shaped’ pathway is summarized in Sura at-Teen:

‘verily, we created mankind (insan) in the best of original forms’

the primary root of the word insan – uns, or intimate communion.

Then we reduced him to the lowest of the low

the second root of insan – nisyan, or forgetfulness, which is the worst state of creation.

Except for those who believe and do good works

by struggling against their souls with constant remembrance of Allah (dhikr) with tongue, action and state, which is through sharia and tariqa.

For them shall be a reward unfailing...

which is a return to the state of uns that comes with direct experience of the divine presence in this world (ma`rifa billah fi ad-dunya).

Thus in summary, Allah has placed within the word insan both the base state and the true destiny of mankind; and our pathway is nothing more or less than the journey of the soul from one reality to the other: from forgetfulness to intimate communion. It is towards this end – ma`rifa – that Allah has provided us with a road (the shari`a), a pathway (tariqa) and perfected human beings to guide us along it (the prophets, the people of truth, the witnesses to truth, and the righteous). May Allah give us the taufiq to realise our reality and to travel from heedlessness to remembrance, from absence to presence, and from forgetfulness to communion – through the blessings and guidance of our teachers.

One in need of his shaykh’s solicitous gaze (tawajjuh)
Blessed Rajab, 1426.

PS: While on the subject of root words, it is edifying to be aware that the root of the word ‘Hazrat’ – which many of us use thinking it means merely, ‘respected one’ – comes from the Arabic root ‘hadara,’ which means ‘presence.’ The original use of the word Hazrat, then, means, ‘the one who is perpetually in the Divine Presence.’

Peace!

[1] ‘wa’dhukur Allaha dhikran kathira,’ which according to the rules of Quranic rhetoric contains three types of emphatic exhortation: ie: .
[2] ‘From among our signs is that we have created for you spouses from amongst yourselves so that you might find rest and tranquillity in them, and we have placed love and compassion between your hearts.’
[3] Rasulullah (s) passed a woman holding and gazing at her baby, oblivious to everything else around her. He said, ‘Allah has 70 times more compassion towards you than this woman has for her baby.’