‘The Sufi’s book is not of ink and letters; it is nothing but a heart white as snow’ (Mevlana Rumi, Mathnawi II.159)
Peace, one and all…
What Other Gift?
A love childish and untutored
is still love,
in spite of all its selfish ways.
That is how I love You,
as a child, foolish and unkempt.
Yet still this love I bear is real.
Although my heart beats
within the confines of this world,
it moves slowly towards the eternity of Your face.
What other gift could I give You,
except a heart made raw through longing
and eyes washed clean through tears?
(Abdur Rahman, 20th January 2008)
(Scenes from Ridley Road market, Hackney)
When I first began to seriously consider religion and religious faith, the image of a great and confusing marketplace came repeatedly before my mind’s eye. Two things struck me. Firstly, I was struck by the sheer diversity of religious thought, as I was by the diverse ways in which these thoughts are expressed. This marketplace of religions is a colourful, noisy and exuberant place!
Secondly, I was struck by the sincerity of committed believers everywhere. In every religious community that I encountered I saw people taking great comfort and strength of spirit from their respective traditions. I met with people who had been strengthened and ennobled by their belief in some thing greater than themselves.
But, as the is the case with every young lad sent to market, I had only a certain amount of ‘currency’ to spend. And so, after much thought, reflection and soul-searching (as well as numerous nudges from God), I paid my money and made my choice, entering thereby into the warm, funny, profound and occasionally foolish community of Muslims.
Despite this, at the back of my mind, lay a thought that I long struggled to ignore. What about all those sincere believers from other faiths? Or, to continue the economic metaphor, what about all those other traders and merchants of the soul? What had all their trading earned them?
For a while, I refused to engage with this question, beyond a simplistic and reflexively defensive ‘that’s up to God’. However, once I started looking inside my own heart, I saw that this was really just the voice of my fear speaking. Yes, of course, matters eschatological rest firmly in the hands of the Almighty (and mighty hands they are too). But, as I began to encounter self and other, different possibilities began to emerge.
Rather than dividing the world into traders good and bad, why not take a more nuanced view of spiritual finance? Or, why not accept the coin others offer, if their weight and measure are in some way recognisable? Because, when all the counting is done, the world, life and the love of God exist beyond all marketplaces. Once I began to understand the limitations of my own tongue, I saw that in all truth I wasn’t really so different! Others were (and are) just as human as me. We are all human. Our tongues will always fail to reach eternity.
(Ridley Road, c.1971)
So now I have begun to see this, what of that old marketplace? Well, I have entered it once more, but not as either a trader or a buyer, nor even as a seller. Rather, I have entered this marketplace that I might hear others speak of that which truly inspires and moves them, and that I might learn thereby something about life and love myself. And though I have goods I could sell and ideas I could choose to hawk around, all thought of payment has left me.
Now, I will strive to offer what little I know for free. After all, I didn’t make this world, so by what right do I sell parts of it, as though I held its title deeds in my hands? And by what right do I speak of love, if I do not offer it as fully as I might to one and all, both near and far?
Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman
Peace, one and all…
It’s exam marking time once again! Hurrah! As such, I wanted to share this jewel with you…
‘…as we can see from the theory of the Dimensions of Religion found in Ninian Smart’s pants’!
Ooh err missus!
Previous exam-related fun: More Bloopers; Amusing Exam Error
Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman
Peace, one and all…
Rake & Shovel
Islam is a rake and a shovel,
made for ploughing truth
into the soul’s waiting soil.
Islam is nourishing compost for the spirit,
so look at the bright flowers
it can bring forth into the world!
Islam is sun and Islam is rain.
Islam is the sowing of seed
and Islam is the time of joyous harvest.
Image Credit: Segal Foundation
(Abdur Rahman, 24th January 2008)
Peace, one and all…
O God! Preserve me from narrowness and save me from rigidity! For that is no way for a heart to live and breathe. Hearts are made to soften, to contract and expand with each in-flow and out-pouring of breath.
I seek refuge with You from becoming harsh and inflexible! How will I ever pass through the eye of that needle whilst I remain brittle?
No my Beloved, I do not want this world to shatter my living humanity. And so, I must retain elasticity of spirit. My heart must become capable of every form.
Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman
Peace, one and all…
You Say, I Say
You say, ‘Truth is Eternal’
and I say,
‘There is no god but God’.
Our differences are smaller than we might imagine.
You say, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life’
and I say,
‘Whomsoever God guides, none can lead astray’.
There is a truth in the words we both speak.
You say, ‘This is the Middle Path’
and I say,
‘We have made you a Middle Nation‘.
So let us speak no more of exclusion.
We are all human
and though we be but mortal flesh,
the vast fields of eternity
are the common heritage of each of us.
(Abdur Rahman, 24th January 2008)
Peace, one and all…
I strive to speak words of hope and encouragement, for that is the desire of my heart. I strive to move beyond what is limited and limiting. I strive to let my heart speak through my mouth and hands.
I am not perfect, and so my words always fall short of the mark, and short of my intent. I am not yet whole and so my words do not reach into every heart.
And so, though my open hands seek naught but connection, sometimes my grasp is weaker than my desire. But, there is a handhold that never breaks and One that holds my life in its outstretched palm. Let me say it as plainly as I can, that Hand is the loving kindness of God.
Ma’as salama,
Abdur Rahman
