Have You Not Considered?

Peace, one and all…

 

‘Say, ‘Have you not considered: if Allah should make for you the night continuous until the Day of Resurrection, what deity other than Allah could bring you light?  Then will you not hear?’ (al-Qasas 28:71).

Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman

Lecture Notes: Understanding the First Civil War

Peace, one and all…

This is just a quick note to say that I’ve posted some new material over at The Islamic History Corner.  That is, I’ve posted the next set of slides.  These slides are on the first fitna (or civil war).

I’ve also recently discovered that I’ll be teaching the first year Islam course again next year.  Al hamdu lillahi ala kulli hal.

Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman

Becoming a Muslim Chaplain

Peace, one and all…

I found out today that I’ve been accepted onto the Islamic Foundation’s Muslim Chaplaincy course.  Al hamdu lillah.  It’s scheduled to run one day per month, from now until September.  As such, this post will be the first of a new series that reflects on my experiences of the course (and beyond), insha Allah.

I’m glad to have been accepted onto the course for a number of reasons.  Firstly, Muslim Chaplaincy/Counselling is an important and underdeveloped field and so I’m looking forward to making a contribution, insha Allah.  Moreover, I really value and enjoy helping people, on an individual basis.  Student welfare is the major function of my post at the University and so this course will extend and deepen my knowledge and skills, insha Allah.

I’m especially keen to develop counselling skills. Much of my current role focuses on the provision of pastoral and academic support, which means I’m often privy to confidential information.  Al hamdu lillah, a close friend of mine is a trained counsellor and I’ve picked up a few tips from him.  I’m looking forward to extending myself in this area, and to offering a faith perspective too.

Secondly, it does mean I’ll be travelling to Leicester once a month.  I really enjoy travelling, especially by myself.  Well, I’m not a loner.  It’s just that I’ll really enjoy having three or four hours to myself, driving there and back.  A chance to think, to see the country and to see what Allah brings my way.  As a Muslim, I also see travelling for knowledge as very spiritually beneficial and I could really do with a boost in that department.

Thirdly, I’m sure that I’ll meet some interesting people, bi ithnillah.  I’ve been to the Foundation a number of times and have met many interesting folks.  From what I hear, there’ll also be a couple of friends on the course.  So, a chance to catch up too!

The more I think about it, the more I realise that I enjoy learning for its own sake.  I’m not happy unless I’m involved in some new course or other.  The usual pattern is for me to take on far too much, in a fit of misplaced enthusiasm.  However, having a sensible (and vocal!) wife helps me keep my feet on the ground!

Speaking of which, my wife is now just over 7 months pregnant and is now feeling the pressure.  The imminent arrival of our third cheeky monkey begins to loom large, and our thoughts turn once more to nappies, sleepless nights and such things.  Al hamdu lillahi ala kulli hal.  Children are always a blessing and I don’t if others have had this experience, but I find that when we’re given extra responsibilities, Allah always gives us extra resources. 

Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman

Writing as Catharsis

Peace, one and all…

Well, I’ve returned from the blog wilderness.  Not a very long retreat, but a helpful one certainly.  The key issue has been intention: where am I going; am I moving in the right direction; why keep writing this blog; what’s its purpose?  From the little I’ve learnt of Islam, making sure of your intention is crucial and so that’s what I’ve been reviewing. 

Writing has always been a form of catharsis for me.  Indeed, this was one of the main reasons I started blogging.  I wanted to write myself forward, if you know what I mean.  In other words, writing is a kind of conversation, a written dialogue – with myself, my Self, God, others and the universe at large.  Talking (or writing) through problems of mind and heart have helped me enormously in my attempts to grow beyond narrowness.

This, in a nutshell, explains my poetry.  Essentially, my poems are (for what they’re worth) all about talking.  They’re my ongoing conversations with my inner Self and God.  They chart my soul’s progress through life, and document my growing (or fading) understanding of Allah’s utter centrality to all things. 

Writing (or more basically, speaking) must be matched by action, if it is to be truly effective.  This is what I’ve been exploring in my recent blogging khalwah (or ‘retreat’).  I grow ever more acutely aware of the vast difference between what I say and what I do.  I’m sure this is something we all feel (or should if we’re even remotely honest with ourselves).  The trick, it seems, is in successfully moving from one to the other; or, in other words, how can I become the man I would like to be?

Ultimately, this is a lifelong struggle.  I’ll only stop becoming the man I am to be as I draw my last breath.  After this point, all that I have thought, all that I have done and all that I have become, will be judged by God.  Being aware of my faults, I fear God’s judgement upon me.  In my own reckoning, I have done and still do, much that is evil in the sight of my Lord.  But, I am not so self-important as to confuse my own judgements of myself with Allah’s.  One of the reasons God is God is because only He is qualified to judge.

Moving beyond automatic behaviours, unconscious mannerisms and actions; this is the task before me.  How can I truly open my self, so that it can step out of the narrow prison my ego has built?  Of course, Islam/Sufism is a method as much as a faith; but there is a difference between knowing and doing.

My progress on the Threshold Society’s 99 Day Programme (which may well extend into 99 years!) has come to this point: attempting to move beyond a mere ‘boom and bust’ spirituality; one that lifts in times of energy, and sinks in times of lethargy.  I’ve been asked to reflect on repentance and ego, and have found the following statement by Abu Hafs al-Haddad particularly profound:

‘I abandoned wrongdoing, but then returned to it.  Later that wrongdoing abandoned me, and I did not return to it’.

At this moment in time, I stuck firmly in the first half.  Ya Allah!  How I want to move beyond!  How I want to be abandoned by my wrongdoing!  But, wanting to end on a note of hope, here’s a poem of Mevlana’s:

Water says to the dirty, ‘Come’.
‘But I am so ashamed,’ the dirty one says.
‘How will you be washed clean without me?’

Wa akhiri da’wana an il hamdu lillahi rabbil alameen.

Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman