These sayings of mine are really a prayer to God,
words to lure the breath of that sweet One.
If you seek an answer from God,
how then can you fail to pray?
How can you be silent, knowing He always replies to
your, ‘O Lord?’ with, ‘I am here’.
His answer is silent but you can feel it from head to toe.
Masnavi 2.1189-1191
In a beautiful passage, the Quran speaks of the collection and distribution of the compulsory alms-tax (the zakat):
‘Alms are only for the poor and for the needy and for those employed to collect and for bringing hearts together and for freeing captives and for those in debt and for the cause of God and for the traveler – an obligation [imposed] by God. And God is Knowing and Wise’ (9:60)
This verse has long been understood as being the basis of an organised collection system, by which that alms-tax is collected. Whilst this is certainly true, a closer examination draws out a number of deeper connections.
Although this compulsory alms tax is most often described as zakat (from a root meaning ‘purification’), in this verse a different term is used. If we look a little closer at this verse, we can draw this out more clearly. The word used here is sadaqat, literally meaning ’charity’. Significantly, this word derives from a root denoting truth and truthfulness. Thus, we can say that charity is a practical means of engaging with truth, of manifesting truth in everyday life. To engage in regular charity is thus a means of visualising and actualising truth. Moreover, given that this verse refers to the compulsory zakat, it forcefully underlines two further points: all that we own comes to us from God, of ourselves we own nothing. Secondly, a just and equitable, organised tax system is a collective means of manifesting this truth. Religion is not merely a matter of private observance, it is also concerned with social justice.
‘Sadaqa is only for … bringing hearts together and for freeing captives and for those in debt and for the cause of God and for the wayfarer…’
Charity is thus a means of bringing peoples together, and for the cause of God, which is here tied to freeing humanity from captivity and debt.
Sadaqa is thus connected with love, with truth, in a spiritual, personal and collective sense. It is therefore an aspect of justice, particularly in the social realm. To give charity to others, in an arranged, socially accepted manner, is to do justice – and to do justice is to manifest the equilibrium of love. Indeed, the more we realise this, the more deeply we are able to access truth, to plumb the depths of sadaqa. Charity is thus a means of approaching Truth.
Charity is a function of our humanity, and is a means of enhancing relationships with others. This is why the Prophet (alaihi al-salatu wa al-salam) speaks of sadaqa in terms of its social utility, as in the following examples:
‘Charity given to one’s relatives twice multiplies its reward’ (al-Tabarani)
‘A kind word is charity’ (al-Bukhari and Muslim)
‘God has never dignified anyone due to his ignorance, nor humiliated anyone due to his knowledge. And wealth is never diminished as a result of charity’ (al-Daylami)
‘Two qualities are never coupled in a believer: miserlinenss and immorality’ (al-Bukhari)
This verse also points towards a deeper, existential truth: we are utterly dependent upon God in every aspect of our lives, in each new moment and place. This becomes clear when we look again at this verse:
‘Sadaqat is only for al-fuqara’ and al-masakin…’
Fuqara’ means those who are absolutely poor, without any other means, whilst masakin means those who are destitute, and therefore weak. Elsewhere, the Quran describes this poverty and weakness in interesting terms:
’O mankind! You are those in need of God (literally, ‘you are the fuqara’), and God is the Free of Need (al-Ghani), the Praiseworthy (al-Hamid)’ 35:15
In other words, poverty and utter dependence are the hallmarks of the human relationship with God. Not only does God give us all that we need, we are also dependent upon God in each new moment. That the verse before us should come in Surah Tawba, or the Chapter of Repentance, is also significant – especially when it is remembered that classical Sufism understood tawba as the first stage of the spiritual journey.
Our poverty and God’s overflowing grace forms a relationship, and our breath is a living moment by moment transcription of this reality. That is, we can experience this now, in our very breath. Mevlevi tradition uses breathing techniques in its formal zikr, especially connected to the testimony of faith (the shahadah) – la ilaha illa Allah. With each exhalaltion, the practice is to breathe la ilaha (‘there is no god…’) as a means of letting go of every limitation, of realising our utter contingency. Each inhalation is accompanied by illa Allah (‘except God’) – in which our chest fills with God-given breath, with an organic awareness of Divine presence. This verse alludes to this process: we acknowledge our dependence on God, we literally breathe it by emptying and we receive a new in-breath, from the Infinite Tresuries of God, al-Ghani al-Hamid.
May God help us become open handed! May God help us realise the truth of our dependence upon Him, in each new new moment and circumstance.
Wa akhiru da`wana an il hamdu lillahi rabbil alameen.
‘When I die and you wish to visit me,
do not come to my grave without a drum,
for at God’s banquet mourners have no place’
Mevlana, Divan-i Shams 683
Today is Seb-i Arus, the festival marking the return of Hazret-i Pir Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi to the Divine Beloved. To mark this auspicious occasion, I wanted to offer a virtual Mehfil-i Sema, or sema gathering, in honour of Mevlana. The spiritual music offered here includes many of my personal favourites.
The Mevlevi Rose Prayer
May this moment be blessed. May goodness be opened and may evil be dispelled. May our humble plea be accepted in the Court of Honour; May the Most Glorious God purify and fill our hearts with the Light of His Greatest Name. May the hearts of the lovers be opened. By the breath of our master Mevlana, by the secret of Shams and Weled, by the holy light of Muhammad, by the generosity of Imam Ali, and the intercession of Muhammad, the unlettered prophet, mercy to all the worlds. May we say Hu, Huuu….
Mevlevi Nat-i Serif
(Poem in Honour of the Prophet, alaihi al-salatu wa al-salam)
Ayini Selam
Daglar ile Taslar ile
Ya Mevlana
Dinle Sozumu
Qawwali Section Hamd
(Qawwal in praise of God)
Sabri Brothers, Allah Hoo
Naat
(Qawwal in praise of Muhammad, alaihi al-salatu wa al-salam)
Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan: Sare Nabian Da Nabi
Manqabat Imam Ali
(Qawwal in honour of Imam Ali)
Mevlana Qawwal, sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Imam al-Shushtari: My Sweetest Moments
Mevlana,Andak Andak
Little by little, the group of the lovedrunk arrive
Little by little, the worshipers of wine arrive
They are on their way; Comforting and gentle
Like flowers from the flowerfield they arrive
Little by little, from this world of Being and non-Being
The non-existent leave and the existent arrive
They come with hands and clothes full of gold
For the poor and hungry they arrive
The gaunt, exhausted from the trials of Love
Strong and healthy they arrive
Like the rays of the Sun , the lives of the Pure
From those heights to the lowly valley they arrive
Green and fresh the garden for the pure
With new fruits from the love drunk they arrive
Their essence is grace and grace they unfold and expand
From the garden towards the garden they arrive
This Saturday (17th December) is Seb-i Arus, the festival celebrating Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi’s Urs or ‘wedding feast’ – the night he returned to the Divine Beloved. In many ways, it is the most important time in the Mevlevi calendar, and is marked by music, poetry, zikr and sema, the whirling ceremony.
With this in mind, during the next few days I’ll be posting a number of my favourite poems from Mevlana’s Masnavi, and some of his lyric poems too (ghazals).
I passed through churches and synagogues
and found everyone speaking of You.
With Your love in my heart I entered the
idol-worshipper’s temple,
I heard Your Name whispered while rosaries turned
(Abu Sa`id ibn Abi al-Khayr)
I have long enjoyed the music of Paul Weller, as a member of first the Jam, then the Style Council and finally as a solo artist. His first solo album, entitled ‘Paul Weller’, has long been a particular favourite of mine. So much so, in fact, that it has become something of an old friend. Each time I listen to it a whole world of memories, associations and images come flooding back, to the point that it seems to have taken on a life of its own.
At any rate, here are some of my personal favourites. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. May all that you do this day be blessed.
Here is a small selection of the music of one of my all-time favourite bands, the Brand New Heavies. Music has been important to me throughout my entire life (as the Soundtrack series of posts illustrates: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5). As I draw inexorably nearer to my 40th year, I’m increasingly convinced of the need to explore and engage with positive music much more fully.
At any rate, I hope you enjoy these songs as much as I do. May all who pass be blessed with goodness.
Sometimes we are given exactly what we ask for, as soon as we have asked for it. In such moments, the real question becomes: are we able to see our prayer arrive? Are we able to see it manifest before us? Are our eyes open fully enough to perceive such gifts aright?
God is subtle beyond all understanding, and sometimes that subtlety is hidden in plain sight. So it is that as I travelled to work this morning, I found myself asking God to show me a little of His Divine Oneness, some small token that would reveal His presence in each new thing. A little further down the carriage of my train, a small group of teenagers were noisily engaged in all the loud business of their tender years – laughing, joing and playing around. I found myself distracted by them, finding a flash of annoyance within at their disturbance of the morning quiet. And yet, praise be to God, this faded into the background, as I peered out of the window, writing a short poem and prayer.
As we neared our destination, I finished my writing and headed towards the train door. As I stood there, the three teenagers stood in front of me. As I looked at them, I saw that the tallest (and truth be told, the noisiest) had a large crucifix tattooed upon his forearm. Looking more closely, I could make out the words ‘Only God’ inscribed beautifully upon his youthful flesh. Seeing these words, my eyes widened and I was momentarily lifted from my workaday self: there, before my very eyes, literally written upon his flesh, was the living truth, a sign of the unity that lies behind all our strange diversity. Behind all our differences, there is ‘only God’. After the sword of la, there is only illa Allah!
Let me close by sharing some words of Mevlana:
‘Love is that flame which, when it blazes up,
burns away everything except the Subsistent Beloved.
It drives home the sword of la* in order to slay other than God.
Look closely – after la what remains?
What remains is ‘but God’, the rest has gone.
Bravo, O great, idol-burning Love;
(Masnavi 5.588-90, trans. W. Chittick)
* – This poem is a play on the central Islamic refrain of la ilaha illa Allah (‘there is no god but God’)
May this needy one’s eyes open to ‘only God’ in each new moment. May all that you do this day be blessed.
Wa akhiru da`wana an il hamdu lillahi rabbil alameen.
We live in interesting times, it seems. Patterns are shifting and changing, and the world moves towards a great turning point. As we draw nearer to this moment of decision, we all feel the strain. I know that I do. But, as I travelled to work this morning, a calming truth emerged from deep within.
If the light were truly gone, then the end of all things would already have come. If the light had truly gone, then no one on earth would speak of love and truth and mercy; no one would strive to swim against the tides of our times. No, the light does not fade, nor is it ever diminished. It is we who turn away and we who close our own eyes.
Allah says in the Quran:
‘Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves’ (13:11)
There is hope in these words. There is life in these words. A change in our attitudes, orientations and priorities can only come from within. We are called in these days of ours to look inside ourselves with Truth, bi al-Haqq, that a way forward might be shown therein.
May every eye and every heart open. May a new dawn emerge. Ya Nur!
I really love this song. It’s by Rebel MC/Natty Congo and comes from the early ’90s. It has always lifted me, reminding me strongly of the beauty and majesty of the cosmos in which we all live, and through which we all travel. Enjoy and may all that you do this day be blessed.
‘Indeed, in the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the alternation of the night and the day are signs for those of understanding’ (3:190)
One of the most pleasurable aspects of Spring is being able to pray in my garden. After zuhr prayer this afternoon, I sat on the lawn (such as it is), taking pleasure in just sitting there amidst the peace and stillness. I was simply breathing, not thinking of anything in particular – a rare thing in itself.
As I sat there, I found my eyes drawn to a small plant, swaying gently in the breeze, with shadows dancing playfully on the tiny green leaves. I gradually became aware of a thought bubbling up from somewhere deep inside: the constant dance of light and shade is slowly nurturing this fragile plant. If there were too much sunlight, the plant would be exhausted before it had had a chance to fully mature. If there were too much shade, the plant would never grown forth from its seed. As I sat there, I suddenly realised that both light and shade are each, in their turn, an expression of mercy. Indeed, it is precisely this subtle balancing of energies that expresses this mercy most completely.
Interestingly, the following Quranic verses came to mind as these thoughts whirled around in my head:
‘He has raised up the sky. He has set the balance so that you may not exceed in the balance: weigh with justice and do not fall short in the balance’ (Surah al-Rahman, or the Chapter of the All-Merciful, 55:7-9; translated by M A S Abdel Haleem)
The balance (al-Mizan in Arabic) is thus established through and maintained by, justice (the word used in this context is qist). The root from which qist is derived conveys notions of equity, fairness, justice, fair distribution, correctness, balance and scale (source), all of which seem particularly relevant.
More broadly, the Islamic tradition understands justice as the ability to put things in their proper place, in the correct proportions, at the proper time. The balance of justice, which upholds all things, is thus exquisitely proportioned Divine mercy. It is God’s rahma (‘mercy’) that bestows the necessary energies for growth and transformation – in just the right amount, at just the right moment. That these verses should form a part of Surah al-Rahman is no coincidence it seems. Firstly, the entire chapter calls us to reflect deeply on the natural world, and the Divine Reality (Haqq) upholding it.
Secondly, the central refrain of this chapter runs thus: ‘Which, then, of your Lord’s blessings do you both deny?’ (first occurring in 55:13, and then throughout). In other words, we are called to respond to the natural world, and the One sustaining it. And, the appropriate response to this finely balanced mercy can only be gratitude. Thankfulness (shukr in Arabic) is the essential key by which these meanings are unlocked. Moreover, if we cannot deny this deeply embedded balance and appropriateness, we should therefore strive to embody it, to become it. Reflecting on the natural world is thus to reflect on God’s own ‘adab‘, so to speak. We are thus taught, albeit implicitly, to model this divine adab, to let it fill us and become us, all the while realising that it is God’s own action within us that makes such human balance possible.
al-Rahman, meaning approximately ‘the All-Merciful’, or ‘the Compassionate’, is one of the most important Divine Names. Interestingly, the surah begins with the proportion inherent in our own creation:
‘al-Rahman, taught the Quran, created man, and taught him eloquence’ (55:1-4)
The anfas al-Rahman (or ‘Breath of the All-Merciful’) is the life-giving spirit which causes all things to exist. The Prophet (alaihi al-salatu wa al-salam) said: ‘Do not curse the wind, for it derives from the Breath of the All-Merciful’ (quoted in William Chittick’s The Sufi Path of Knowledge, p.127).
If this is so in the physical world, it is also true in the spiritual world. Light and shade, ‘good’ and ‘bad’, are for our own inward growth, so that the rose-bush of the soul might also become like this small leaf. In the past, I imagined the darkness as a subversion of the universal order, but now I see that both are necessary. Both light and shadow are God-given; perhaps this is because duality is a necessary part of the physical universe. But, as I am learning, this duality is only apparent: it is only our limited perception that sees this way, dividing what is in fact an indivisible whole. In reality, this duality is an expression of a deeper unity – light and shade, and every other pairing of opposites, come from God, and both are held in exquisite balance by overflowing, transcendent rahma. Perhaps this is why, at this weekend’s retreat, as we spoke of the Divine Nameal-Nur(the Light), I realised that this is not merely physical light, but the light of all things that shines in amidst the deepest ‘night’ of this world.
Here is a beautiful rendition of this wonderful surah, with accompanying text.
Surah al-Rahman, recited by al-Ghamdi
In closing, let me offer a beautiful quatrain of Mevlana, appropriately from this weekend’s Threshold Society retreat.
‘I am a mountain echoing the Friend.
I am a picture painted by the Beloved.
I am just a lock, but you hear His key turning.
Do you think any of these words are mine?’
(Quatrain 207, trans. Shaykh Kabir Helminski)
Praise be to God! The Cardiff Sufi group is now meeting regularly (we have our own Facebook page too) and we are beginning to engage in some valuable spiritual work. I want to use this blog to document our sohbets (loosely, ‘spiritual conversations’), in order to help me reflect on and connect the ideas that we are discussing together. Insha Allah, there will be some benefit in this.
To this end, I wanted to share the two short passages from Mevlana Rumi’s Masnavi that we discussed last night. God willing, in the next few days, I hope to offer some further reflections.
Yesterday’s theme was forbearance and patience. We explored the following texts:
Text 1
‘How should Spring bring forth a garden on hard stone?
Become earth, that you may grow flowers of many colors.
For you have been a heart-breaking rock.
Once, for the sake of experiment, be earth!’
(1.1911-2)
Text 2
‘To practice patience is the soul of praise:
have patience, for that is true glorification.
No glorification is worth as much.
Have patience:
patience is the remedy for pain’
(2. 3146)
Feel free to comment and offer your own reactions to these thought-provoking words.
I am pleased to announce the launch of a new Sufi group in South Wales. The Cardiff Sufi Group, set up as a part of the Threshold Society and the Mevlevi tariqa, will meet regularly every Friday at the Cardiff Quaker Meeting House, from 7.15-9.15 pm, insha Allah. God willing, the first meeting will be held on Friday 1st October 2010.
All are welcome to attend. If you are interested in attending, please contact the group at: cardiffsufigroup@gmail.com
Farewell Bright Moon of Ramadan! May we meet again next year. May your light come quickly to enlighten us again. A belated eid mubarak one and all. Kullu aam wa antum bi khayr. Bayram sherif mubarak olsun. In celebration, here is some beautiful music. May all who pass by be blessed.