Question: How should believers approach the tribulations of those who devote themselves to the happiness of others?

“So others may live” is the loftiest goal possible for a person. It is an ideal for which one is more concerned for the happiness of others than his or hers. Those who live for others sacrifice from their own joys and strive to be a source of life for all. God’s messengers, who were the best of humanity, and those who followed in their footsteps never put their selves in the center of their lives. Their only goal was to elevate people from low corporeal desires to an exalted spiritual life fashioned for the pleasure of God. Holding candles, they run from one darkness to the other, dedicated to bringing light to other people’s lives, even if they needed to remain in the dark. Despite all the pain and agony they had to go through, they never complained. They were benevolent to show compassion to their oppressors and forgave them their transgressions.

Those chivalrous souls of the past have left behind a good memory to honor. They never did what they did for the sake of leaving a good name and admiration. They had no expectation other than God’s pleasure. “I ask of you no wage for that (for conveying God’s Message); my wage is due only from the Lord of the worlds” (Qur’an 26:109), they would say when asked, until the end of their lives.

They did not demand their services to be named after them. Bediuzzaman, the great sage of the twentieth century, did not even want his place of burial to be known – he wished this so wholeheartedly it seems, that his body was later unlawfully removed by the authorities of his time to be buried in an unknown place. Despite this cruelty, his name and the names of other giants like him have continued to live on in the hearts and minds of many generations after them. They are being remembered with their exemplary lives, ideas, and works even after centuries. Many continue to circle around what they stood for and walk in the direction they pointed to. We pray to be able to know them better and understand their vision.

We remember Bediuzzaman, a loyal follower of Prophets, with his commitment to serving people when he said, “So long as I see my nation’s faith is secured, I don’t mind burning in the Hellfire.” Despite his dedication to his nation, his life was made a prison by the tyrants of his era. His students had to go through similar tribulations – although they had no desire for any worldly ambitions and refused any worldly titles. They were sent to exile, taken from one court to another, and imprisoned. They endured all the toll that came with being on the side of Bediuzzaman and remained committed until he passed away. Their loyalty, commitment, and sacrifices have helped many to open their eyes to truths and faith.

A quick look into the lives of these students, like Zubeyir Gunduzalp, Tahiri Mutlu, Hulusi Efendi, and others, would reveal they were never invested in any material wealth. They lived in very modest homes, in rooms that were falling apart. They could perhaps have pursued a life in wealth and prosperity, but they never wished to leave even a standing stick behind. They dreamt nothing else but to be in service in God’s path.

Such people who devoted themselves to lofty ideals adopted “positive action” as their method. Thus, they never fell in pitfalls like being jealous of others and obstructing their good work. It is the way of pharaohs and their bad counterfeits who spread propaganda to destroy what others do.

There is not a single person in the history of mankind who devoted his or her life to humanity but did not suffer anything at all. They were suppressed, cursed on, exiled, and put behind bars – their sincerity in their cause was tested many times. Is there any Prophet who did not have to endure pain or exile? Zachariah was sawed into pieces, John was martyred, Abraham was thrown into fires, Moses was expelled from his homeland, Joseph was cast into the well, sold in slave markets, and spent years in dungeons, Noah had to endure his people’s mockery and defamation… and the list goes on.

The sole passion of tyrants is to hold on to their rule by whatever it takes; as they suck people’s blood like vampires, they offer nothing useful for the future of a nation. God may give them some respite, which is temporary, and eventually they fall from their towers.

What falls on believers is to remember all the tribulations the Prophets had to go through, and, when they are tested, to patiently endure.

Considered as a World Heritage Site, Kilwa (or “Quiloa”) bears testimony to the rich heritage and flourishing Indian Ocean trade from the 13^th to the 16^th century. Kilwa Kisiwani and Songo Mnara are the islands with two port cities which lie about 300 kilometers south of Dar es Salam. These islands can only be accessed by boat. Today, they are marked by ruins; but the islands give a deep understanding of prosperity in Tanzania even before the island of Zanzibar lead the world in the clove trade.

In the 14^th and 15^th century, Kilwa Kisiwani, larger of the two islands, basked in glory and was considered one of the wealthiest Swahili city-states with the finest harbors in East Africa. Much of the trade in the Indian Ocean passed through this port city. Business prospered and its fame spread far and wide, attracting merchants and traders, and bringing caravans loaded with valuable commodities. Impressed buyers came from the Middle East, India, Persia, and Europe looking for gold. The world demand for gold soared and Kilwa had the supply controlling and dominating the gold trade. The years from 1300 to 1330 were an era of exceptional wealth. This was the only time where the rulers were known to have minted gold coins. Traders brought with them goods from India, the Persian Gulf, and China and exchanged from Kilwa’s bounty, thus there was a lot of trading commodities such as pearls, silver, ivory, perfumes, resins, cowrie shells, local cotton materials, tortoise shells, Rhinoceros horns, expensive Indian fabrics, Arabian crockery, Chinese porcelain, and Persian ceramics.

Sultan Al-Hasan bin Sulaiman, who ruled from 1310–1335, was a generous man known as the “Father of Gifts.” Ibn Battuta described the Sultan in his compilation called, al-Rihla or “The Travels” as follows:

When I arrived, the Sultan was Abu al-Muzaffar Hasan, surnamed Abu al-Mawahib (father of gifts) on account of his generosity. This Sultan is very humble: he sits and eats with beggars, and venerates holy men and descendants of the Prophet.

He also said the Sultan wore, “fabrics imported from Jerusalem and Egypt” [1].

It is said that there were nearly 99 mosques on Kilwa Kisiwani and the town was said to be built on pure marble. The Great Mosque was grandiose with its 16 domed and vaulted bays, and is believed to be the oldest standing mosque on the East African coast [2].

The Sultan built a magnificent Palace named Husni Kubwa, believed to be the only structure of such grand scale and complexity along the coast, like no other. There were about 100 rooms in the Palace. Many scholars visited this island, one of them was a fourteenth century Moroccan traveler known as Ibn Battuta, who left his hometown to complete the pilgrimage to Mecca and ended up journeying around the world for almost 30 years.

He visited Kilwa in 1331 and fell in love with the islands and its people and described Kilwa as “one of the most beautiful and well-constructed towns in the world… Its people … are for the most part religious and upright…” It is written that Ibn Battuta married one of the daughters of the Sultan, worked as a lawyer for the Sultan, and lived on the island for about 2 years.

The Portuguese were also impressed by the power of Kilwa. When they first set eyes on it, they were amazed at its splendor. Duarte Barbosa, the commercial agent visited Kilwa in 1512 and said, 

“When the King of Portugal discovered the island, the Moors of Sofala, Cuama, Angoche, and Mozambique were all under obedience to the King of Kilwa, who was a great King amongst them. And there is much gold in this town, because all the ships which go to Sofala touch at this island, both in going and coming back.” [3]

He also said,

“…a Moorish town with many fair houses of stone and mortar, with many windows after our fashion, very well laid out in streets, with many flat roofs and doors that are of wood, well carved with excellent joinery and in this town, was plenty of gold as no ships passed to or from Sofola without coming to this island. Of the people, most of whom are Moors and are clad in many rich garments of gold and silk and cotton with the women adorned with much gold and silver in chains and bracelets and many jeweled ear-rings in their ears.” (c1516)

Both European and Arab nations tried to conquer it, envying Kilwa’s power. Ruins of the majestic palaces, Persian designs, massive boulders and mosques are a legacy of its years of power and dominion. Inhabited by a few locals today, many tourists visit the island, to witness the place of great pride in the history of Tanzania.

References

1. African History: http://oxfordre.com/africanhistory/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780190277734.001.0001/acrefore-9780190277734-e-152
2. https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/144
3. Karen Moon. 2005. Kilwa Kisiwani: Ancient Port City of the East African Coast.

My intention in writing this piece is to elucidate crucial concepts in a poem written by Yunus Emre—concepts needed to understand the Sufi worldview. A mysterious figure, almost all that we know of Emre comes from the local peoples of Anatolia. He is an exemplar of the “folk people’s poet”.” We have no real works written by him, his divan instead being a collection of inherited poems by Anatolians. His poem, The Troubled Watermill, expresses concepts that are fundamental to not only Tasawwuf and ‘Ishq (passionate love) but understanding all of reality and man’s place in it. Still, it does so in a concise and beautiful way.

For elucidating the concepts of The Troubled Watermill, and my own understanding of Emre’s ideas, my greatest teacher has without a doubt been Mawlana Jalal Al-Din Rumi. Emre and Rumi, in addition to being contemporaries, were similar in many ways. While they were both very learned in the theological and mystical scene of their time, I believe that they both looked at the universe with an eye wholly unique to them. They cannot be strictly categorized as part of either Ahmad Al-Ghazali’s tradition of mystical love or the philosophizing of Ibn ‘Arabi. Instead, it seems to me that their worldview and method of expression is uniquely Qur’anic. Over the course of this commentary, I will frequently mention lines from the beginning of the Masnavi, taken from Jawid Mojaddedi’s translation. I hope for this to be a source of inspiration and learning as well as showing the similarities in experience between the two individuals.

The Commentary

Why do you groan, O Watermill? For I’ve troubles, I groan
I fell in love with the Lord; For It do I groan

We start our journey alongside Yunus Emre, traveling through the hills, villages, and sights of Anatolia. Rather than Rumi’s command of “Listen!” that starts the Masnavi, Emre most often opts for a more experiential style, inquiring and learning about whatever destiny decrees will appear to you.

In one such incident, Emre happens upon a huge watermill; its purpose is to transport water for the town inhabitants’ consumption. When he sees the watermill, Emre is put off by the non-stop, agonizing squeaking and groaning of the huge wheel. And so he asks the seemingly sad creature: Why do you groan, O Watermill?

The watermill aptly responds, declaring that his troubles are the source of the groaning. This declaration of a troubled nature and the need to cry out, we will see, is repeated throughout the entire poem. It is quite fitting as well, as the watermill here is speaking as the lover, representing both every single being and Emre, the inquirer. ‘Ashiq Yunus Emre would not be able to stay silent when he is troubled in such a way, just as the gigantic wooden watermill or the reed-flute cannot, as expressed by Mawlana Rumi in:

 My Song’s expressed each human’s agony.

Then, the watermill goes on, citing falling in love with the Lord as the reason for his groans. The original Turkish has a subtle ambiguity that adds many more layers to the meaning. The personal pronouns in Turkish are gender neutral, and so the ‘Onun’(It) used here could refer to both “fell in love with the Lord” or “For The Lord.”

The watermill declares that because he loves, he groans, and as far as the former will continue, the latter will as well. The watermill is in actuality a poet, wailing and moaning about the calamity that love has caused him. It does not let him rest, have peace or tranquility. The watermill groans, and he does it “For The Lord,” as this is his duty. The watermill, in his continuous groaning, is fully aware that he is responding to Allah’s command: “O believers! Always remember Allah often, and glorify Him morning and evening.”(33:41-42).

They found me on a mountain; My arms and wings they plucked
Saw me fit for a watermill; For I’ve troubles, I groan

The watermill continues to express his woes, and here we get a clearer picture as to why he is troubled. It seems peculiar that a lover of Allah in constant remembrance of Him should not be included in “Surely in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find comfort”(13:28).

Yet, the watermill is still troubled, and his reasoning is They found me on a mountain; My arms and wings they plucked. The watermill was not always a watermill. Long ago, he was a majestic tree upon the mountain, his arms and wings stretching up towards the sky. He was grand and strong, as much a peg stabilizing the earth as the mountain itself.

But the woodcutters came. They saw him fit for a watermill and cut him down and dissected him. Now the tree is no longer a tree, his home no longer the mountain. He is instead a groaning watermill—groaning because he is a watermill.

This story is not unique to the watermill; it is the story of all mankind and creation. We were once One with our Lord, and then we were rent asunder. We used to exist purely and without multiplicity in Him. Without disease or defect, evil or hate, we were like Adam enjoying the fruits of paradise in bliss.

And then, The Lord decided that “I desire to be known,” and so he created. We heard the command of “Be!” and buckled under its strength, wounded into existence. That creation, the separation from our Lord, is the severing of the tree from its roots in the mountain.

Then, while we were still astonished and impaired from the flash of creation, the divine speech came once more, this time inquiring: “Am I not your Lord?”(7:172). In being exposed to His absolute Beauty and Majesty, we fell onto our knees, hearts hopelessly in love without any hope of release. So, we cried out, and continue to do so in our groans, “Yes indeed, we bear witness!”(7:172). It was then that our arms and wings were plucked, no longer free to our own devices but slavesto love forevermore.

And after that most sacred covenant, we were sent down to Earth. As Emre said in his last words to Rumi, we were wrapped in meat and bone and took on our names. How strange it is, that souls existing in pre-eternity with Him are now here, temporal and blotched. How strange it is that the blessed and pure Adam walked upon the earth and built houses with mud; how strange that a grand tree on a mountain was seen fit to become a groaning watermill.

From the mountain they cut my wood; My disparate order they ruined
But an unwearied poet I am; For I’ve troubles, I groan

I think that for whoever is familiar with the opening lines of the Masnavi, the relationship between it and this poem is clearly evident. The watermill is for Yunus Emre what the reed-flute was for Mawlana Rumi. The reed-flute cries out in agony, the haunting notes it plays giving an account of what it is, where it comes from, and who it wants to unite with:

My song’s expressed each human’s agony,
A breast which separation’s split in two
Is what I seek, to share this pain with you:
When kept from their true origin, all yearn
For union on the day they can return.

Just as the reed-flute complains of separation from his source, so does the watermill. Is it not inane, that a grand and majestic tree of the mountains has found itself a creaky, spinning watermill? The tree once was whole with his beloved, his roots burrowed deep into the ground, inseparable from the soil.

But both him and the reed-flute were split in two—not by meticulously dissecting the roots of the tree or reed-bed, or by burning it so the whole dies together, but rather with an axe that swiftly cut through the middle. Swift and merciless the axe of “Be!” came from pre-eternity and cut us off from our source. And as Rumi explains, all things yearn for union with their true source.

What the watermill refers to in My disparate order they ruined are the wondrous blisses of union. The beginning of every path, when the traveler is without maturity or realization, is always remembered to be the sweetest, even if one recognizes its deficiencies. Men think of their childhood and wish for such nostalgic innocence and ease; students think of their first years in school and wish for such comfort; and Adam thinks of the fruits of paradise and wishes to find them once more.

However, even though the watermill complains and groans of his troubles, even though the reed-flute sings of its separation, and they both wish to return to their previous states—their disparate order— the true gnostic is one who recognizes the necessity of such events.

The creation of all was according to a design; and so the fall of Adam from paradise was as well. The entire universe is but a theater for the Divine Names, and it would not befit the playmaker to not hire actors. The proper actors, in turn, must not abandon the play, where they are paid for their service, as well as to act out divine scenes far above their station.

So, the Watermill declares himself to be: But an unwearied poet I am. That is all he is: his groans and moans are poetry. He does not tire or stop his poetry—firstly because, even though he has found himself to be a watermill whilst before he was a mature tree, his duty of remembrance and worship is not abrogated by his current state.

Secondly, the true lover is one that never stops crying for his Beloved. The fire sparked from separation is one that burns hotter and hotter as separation continues, and how can a lover on fire ever stop complaining about burning? Mawlana Rumi himself expresses this beautifully:

While ordinary men on drops can thrive
A fish needs oceans daily to survive:
The way the ripe must feel the raw can’t tell…

The poetry of the watermill is his worship, caused by the trouble of separation. The groans and squeaks you hear are in fact everything that the watermill says; he has no other words. For the true lover, nothing falls from his tongue except his troubles. ‘Ishq enraptures the entire being, leaving no room for wits, comfort, or folly. When you blow into the reed-flute, all you hear are its cries. When you listen to a watermill, all you hear are its groans. And so, if you look for the true lovers of Allah, all you must hear are His Glorifications.

(To be continued in the next issue.)

The Troubled Watermill

By Yunus Emre

Why do you groan, O Watermill; For I’ve troubles, I groan

I fell in love with the Lord; For It do I groan

They found me on a mountain; My arms and wings they plucked

Saw me fit for a watermill; For I’ve troubles, I groan

From the mountain they cut my wood; My disparate order they ruined

But an unwearied poet I am; For I’ve troubles, I groan

I am The Troubled Watermill; My water flows, roaring and rumbling

Thus has Allah commanded; For I’ve troubles, I groan

I am but a mountain’s tree; Neither am I bitter, nor sweet

I am but a pleader to the Lord; For I’ve troubles, I groan

Yunus, whoever comes here will find no joy; Will not reach his desire

Nobody stays in this Transient; For I’ve troubles, I groan

Turkish:

Dolap niçin inilersin; Derdim vardır inilerim,
Ben Mevla’ya aşık oldum; Onun için inilerim,
Beni bir dağda buldular; Kolum kanadım yoldular,
Dolaba layık gördüler; Derdim vardır inilerim,
Dağdan kestiler hezenim; Bozuldu türlü düzenim,
Ben usanmaz bir ozanım; Derdim vardır inilerim,
Benim adım dertli dolap; Suyum akar yalap yalap,
Böyle emreylemiş Çalap; Derdim vardır inilerim,
Ben bir dağın ağacıyım; Ne tatlıyım ne acıyım,
Ben Mevlaya duacıyım; Derdim vardır inilerim,
Yunus bunda gelen gülmez; Kişi muradına ermez,
Bu fanide kimse kalmaz; Derdim vardır inilerim

My personal sense of unease had been with me for some time, although “unease” is putting it mildly. There had been milestones of relief, little landmarks along the way. These were often books. A man called John Coleman wrote a book called The Quiet Mind. I found the title riveting. Something inside me rose in affirmation, but it was not me that had reacted. No, it was something else—but not me. I once read from a mystic that real prayer is not done by the person. You can make like you are praying, but real prayer is something the prayer does all by itself. With a little grace you might be able to get out of the way. That is the most you can hope for.

As a writer I was doing mental calisthenics. Some of it was good enough to be published. My wife found it reassuring because most writers are not famous for making money. Translation filled some of our wider gaps. Somehow, we got by.

There occurred a telling late-afternoon incident. The kids were not home from school. My wife was still at work. I was deep into a translation. An immense calm arose. I remember the mystic saying that meditation is not something you do; you must get very quiet and “feel how you feel.”

How did I feel? Like I was quietly sunbathing in something sublime. The world had fallen away. My mind dulled into abeyance. I looked up from the keyboard, tentatively, almost afraid of breaking the spell. The quietness was huge, and the room seemed to be a perfect temperature. The air felt unaccountably clean—an intangible feeling, but one definitely felt. I remember a quickly rising sense of isolation and a sudden feeling of worry. I held on, almost gasping like a fish out of water, and then the worry dispersed, I can only express it that way. I realized that it was not only all right to be me; I also had little choice. Something tingled above my heart and below my throat. My chest felt the way you feel when you drink a glass of cold water, and you feel it going down.

I turned to the translation. Something inside prayed—could prayer be hope?—that there would be nothing crass to disturb the spell. I remembered Patrick-Leigh Fermor’s A Time to Keep Silence. The author had entered a monastery to work on a book. He related that first, he was bored to desperation in the monastery, where nothing happened; then, the bubble of boredom broke, and he felt perfectly at ease with his situation. He reported a heightened sensitivity. When he left the monastery, he found driving along a freeway appalling because even the most innocuous advertisement placards along the way were an insult to his sensibility.

My wife arrived home. She looked into the room where I sat like a stunned ox. She said, “Gosh, the house feels nice.”

I knew what she was talking about, of course, but couldn’t explain any part of it. I mumbled something like, “Yeah, the translation went well.” But the house feeling nice was the best thing that I had ever experienced, and I have no idea how it happened.

The children came home, bringing their world with them. I knew that what I had experienced was the way it was meant to be. A vibration inside of me was speaking from beyond my mind. There was no mental conversation. Everything was simply seen. I sat dazed, gently resistant to a now muffled little voice trying belligerently to assert itself. The mystic had related of another voice, the whisper from the soul.

I learned, realized, what great artists give. They offer something that is so special that one’s focus is removed from the self. It was curious that George Ivan Gurdjieff proposed a system of “self-remembering”; I was then convinced that “self-forgetting” was possibly more useful. I believe that if one has the ability, luck, or grace to forget oneself, it could be the first step placed on a spiritual path. Nevertheless, right there would be the realization of all one’s troubles and certainly not instant salvation.

I had the feeling that this is what Mr. Hemingway had—perhaps unconsciously—been seeking as he shaved his sentences down to the bare minimum until a rhythm arose, making reading like counting the beads of a rosary. Laurens van der Post touched upon inner feeling in The Lost World of the Kalahari when relating of tracking an animal over two days to finally make a kill, and a Bushman saying that the women would be rejoicing and heating the cooking pots. “But how will they know about the kill?” van der Post asked. “They will feel it, here,” said the Bushman, tapping his chest.

I feel sad about Mr. Hemingway. I suppose it is the sadness felt at losing a good man, a sadness you should feel when losing anybody. I believe that he acquired the grace of seriousness, and perhaps even a quiet mind, but there was much inside of him that got in the way as he led a riotous life of worldly adventure. Mr. Hemingway dealt with his dilemma in A Clean, Well-Lighted Place. Despair is of the mind, and the mind is a tyrant. The quiet mind is a mind that is modest, in abeyance; it serves and does not lead.

Any writer who would describe with words something beyond words has my sincere best wishes. Of course, there are the atmospheric interludes in one’s life that offer a divine nudge. If any reader has heard the hypnotic call to prayer from a muezzin, floating at dawn over trees at the edge of a jungle, they will know what I mean. The point is that although there may be a sudden crashing rise of birds, the voice itself does not shatter the silence. It really does float hauntingly as a sound ethereal. The call to prayer heard in a city is often more strident but no less enchanting. One is struck by something stealthily all-encompassing, something impossible to ignore, something that lingers in a sudden brittle silence.

            Religion was obviously not to be avoided. There were too many hooks, like “The peace that passes all understanding.” Real understanding must be subservient to peace. The stunned-ox experience has brought a new dimension. I sit, gaze, go empty, and it works. During the night I scribble notes terrifically aware of the danger of laziness. If I don’t write

down this current gem I will not be able to sleep, and it will, of course, be gone in the morning. My wife looks gorgeous with her hair over her eyes as she sleeps. I sigh, resisting distraction.

I wrote about the current influx of refugees into Austria. The winter is coming. They sleep on the earth, wrapped in a blanket. There is frost on the blanket at dawn. They shiver, waiting for the sun. This is Mr. Hemingway’s “real” and “true,” given in a writing style that is no style at all and possibly his attempt at eliminating the self. On the other hand, it does say everything that needs to be said.

Walking in Vienna’s Stadtpark one can see a bronze of Mozart, once going green but now gilded, and listen to an orchestra playing alfresco, releasing swarms of the great man’s melodies into the air. Possibly poetry and prose readings would suffice to almost match such music, but they would have to be sensationally good to even get close to the magic of what Richard Strauss said about Mozart: “I spend three months looking for a theme, Mozart shook them out of his sleeve.”

I once had the privilege of spending time with and interviewing two famous jazz musicians, the bassist Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen (who straightened out my pronunciation of Kierkegaard) and the guitarist Philip Catherine. Both of these musicians knew how to swing with the best. Pedersen had been invited to join the Basie band when he was only seventeen. Catherine had been on the road for ages in Europe, traveling with Chet Baker. Nevertheless, they had their weaknesses, and I was pleased to find that they closely resembled mine.

“So many great songs,” one of us sighed.

“Yes, I have a soft spot for Emily,” I said.

“Mercer and Mandel,” Philip said. “Nice.”

“I had it by Tony Bennett, years ago,” I said.

“I was backing Tony Bennett at a club one night,” Niels said. “The show was being taped and for some reason he was not allowed to record it at that session. Some sort of contract thing. But Tony left the recording mic and went right to the front of the stage and sang Emily to the audience, and they loved it. It’s a beautiful song.”

There was silence. Three middle-aged men sat dreaming about what is manifestly ur-schmaltz. Someone hummed a few notes, quietly. Brows wrinkled, eyes emptied, we each nodded a gentle nod, sagaciously.

“When Joanna Loved Me, is also great by Bennett,” I ventured. I didn’t have the courage to tell them how much I liked Friendly Persuasion, a Pat Boon hit.

It is always revealing to be with people of tremendous talent or sensitivity. I spent some time with Heinrich Harrer, the author of Seven Years in Tibet. We got on well together, possibly because he liked the British. We worked together translating one of his books on mountaineering. One day he asked me, “Lawrence, how can you write about mountaineering when you are not a mountaineer?” I am afraid my answer was somewhat glib, “Heinrich, I do not need to get shot to know that bullets hurt.”

There may, or may not, be a lack of humor to be found among people of talent, but underlying everything is often a seriousness that can be felt because they have found their purpose in life. They are doing what they are supposed to be doing. This makes the seriousness more a matter of quiet, of steadiness. Triviality doesn’t come into it.

            Pity the poor writer. But this writer has been given the grace to be at peace with writing. Vienna, again. It is a city made almost silent by a hush-quiet fall of snow. In the Hotel Sacher café, the waiter approaches so inaudibly his presence is first felt; you then check instinctively for shoes. Outside on the sidewalk, a bunch of Krishna people dance by, their pale pure faces raised to the sky, a hop-shuffle dance from Krishna to Rama, abandonment to an Asian rumba.

I recently read something of Shaker philosophy, which went, “Never make anything unless it is needed and useful, and if it is useful and needed don’t hesitate to make it beautiful.”

Something inside rises to beauty. Then the quiet mind permits appreciation. Excitement doesn’t come into it.

The universe as a whole is a grand book of God,
Try any of its letters; the meaning of each reveal nothing but Him
Recaizade Mahmud Ekrem

Experts of mystical journey profess that to be able to attain true faith, one must have an encompassing sight. Only with such a sight will the essence of unity felt deep within resonate in the conscience, and constant signs indicating God will be observed on every thing and every face. When one reaches the horizon of “There is nothing more manifest than God the Truth / He is only concealed to those lacking eyes,” they will flutter over the colorful flowers in the garden of the universe with the enthusiasm of wondering, “Isn’t there more?” and will form the honeycombs of Divine Knowledge.

It is difficult to attain such a result for one who steps into the gardens of existence without gaining an encompassing sight. For example, while contemplating the multitude of flowers, the sight will be distracted, and the meanings collected somehow will not be distilled into divine knowledge because they will not receive affirmation in the heart. Hence, the sight must first be turned to the human, who is an infinitesimal model of the universe, and after reading this reference point, a telescopic view must be obtained to read the Book of the Universe. “Because the accurate reading of the outer dimensions depends on the correct reading of the inner dimensions” [1].

Intending for the sweetest honey

In this journey, the mind, like other organs, becomes a subject of the heart and follows its guidance. To bear witness to this journey, the residents in the realms of earthly and heavenly Dominion convene in the conscience – the human conscience that can be as expansive as to contain all that is there. As they do so, the primordial testimony we gave before we were born into this world echoes therein.

The heart draws nigh to the mind, dusts off its clothing and gifts its friend a pair of wings made of pure light and emerald, for it to soar into the heavens. The mind, like a honeybee leaving its hive to collect pollen, intends for the sweetest honey and takes flight. With the eyes of its friend, the heart, it observes the human, the infinitesimal model of the universe.

The journey begins from the womb of a mother.

Enthusiasm and the gift of life

As it opens its eyes with curiosity and turns its sight upon its body, the mind first catches the glimpse of an inclusive and perfect order and an encompassing and delicate balance [2]. Intending to see the Governor who created this marvelous order and delicate balance, the mind embarks on its journey from the point where the indicators of the divine name The Infinite Last transforms into the manifestations of the divine name The Very First. At this point, the sperm and egg cells, which become nuclei, quit on being themselves to grow into a new being, and they become annihilated in each other. For this meeting, the sperm covers demanding distances with great enthusiasm, and the egg, despite its apparent inertia, attracts the sperm towards itself by diverse mechanisms. Enthusiasm, manifested in the sperm as a palpable activity, manifests itself in the egg as active patience. Both take such a pleasure in obeying the law of creation and adhering to the Divine Commandment that they perish themselves with great enthusiasm to become a single cell honored with the gift of life. Thus, enthusiasm becomes the bearer of the gift called life—that is, the enthusiasm becomes a means to receive the gift of life. The human body, which will become the bearer of the gift called the soul, will develop from this single cell called the “zygote.”

Order

The mind witnesses the first steps in the creation of a marvelous order in this new cell which has been worthy of the manifestations from the divine name al-Batin (the All-Inward, the Hidden) thanks to its inherent potential. 12-24 hours after the creation of the zygote, mitotic divisions begin with a divine command, and with each division, two identical cells are formed from one cell. Rapid divisions and the hardening of the covering surrounding the zygote do not allow new cells to grow. Hence, although the number of cells reaches 32 by the 96th hour of fertilization, the size of this cell clump remains the same as that of the zygote. At this point, while the cells continue to divide and multiply, they also begin to differentiate.

As the cells in the outer part assume the key task of adhering the embryo to the mother’s womb, the cells in the inner part are clustered adjacent to one side. This mass of cells to be deployed in creating the embryo is called the “embryoblast.” Around the sixth day, the hard shell surrounding the cells thins and disappears, and the embryo, whose first differentiation is complete, adheres to the uterine wall. Like the germination of seeds buried in the soil, the embryo will be well embedded in the uterine wall in the coming days, where it will develop and transform into a radiance of the divine name al-Dhahir (the All-Outward, the Manifest) [3].

In these first steps towards order, the mind watching the Divine Command which determines the position and function of each cell, will also witness the embryoblast cells progress towards their own vaults of perfection. Because each of these cells, called the “pluripotent stem cell,” bears the potential to transform into all cell types in a developed human body.

In the second week of fertilization, a third layer is created from the embryoblast cells that separate into two layers. The ectoderm, mesoderm, and endoderm layers that emerge at this stage—which is called “gastrulation”—are internally and externally different from one another. The ectoderm, at the top of these layers, is the predecessor of the cells that will eventually form the skin, nails, hair, teeth, brain, and the nervous system. The mesoderm underneath forms the muscles, sex organs, bones and cartilage, heart, blood vessels and connective tissue. Lastly, the pancreas, liver, intestines, stomach, and lungs originate from the endoderm, the bottom layer.

These cells, once in one piece before transforming into features like the shattered pieces of a mirror, become mirrors to different divine names according to the organs where they will be placed for training and “as trillions of mirrors, always express the same meaning and concept with features such as unity, solidarity, harmony, concordance, cooperation and solidarity among themselves and with different voices, tunes, and characters” [4].

Quest for the straight path and regular flow

Built in a stunning order and form befitting their duties, these organs depend on precise measurements to function as a whole. Life continues with the preservation of this balance in the sphere of causes and ends when it deteriorates without repair. Numerous variables such as body temperature, pH balance, and blood pressure are kept constant within a set value range notwithstanding internal and external factors. Excess or deficiency in the system gives way to various diseases. This quest for attaining “The Straight Path” in the human body is called “homeostasis.” At this point, the mind heeds more to read the order in the body, for order, according to Nursi, is another tongue that speaks on behalf of Divine Unity. In this attentive observation, the mind notices that the body and its surroundings are in constant change, and yet the delicate balance is refreshed and maintained regularly [5] like clockwork and in harmony [6]. The fact that powerless and unconscious cells—and the tissues and organs formed from them—undertake massive duties as if they are conscious and act like soldiers as if they know the general order in the body bears witness to the Unity of the One (Great is His Majesty) Who does everything with wisdom, and Who has absolute power and knowledge [7]. The loud voice of “He is God, there is no god but He” resonating from trillions of cells to bear witness to His Unity makes the mind hear this truth without borrowing the ears of its companion, the heart.

Tasting the Sweetest Honey of Love

At the end of this journey, the mind returns to the heart having traveled between the Divine names and witnessed the order, harmony, and balance that run like clockwork in human body. Now, it feels the Divine unity deep down in the conscience, tasting the sweetest honey of love formed in the honeycombs of the heart. The heart now invites its subjects to reunion with the Divine “like gleeful children and filled with the pleasures of having attained contentment” yet with caution and composure [8]. The subjects convene in the conscience and sherbets are prepared from the sweetest honey. When lips meet the sherbet of reunion, the talks only mention the One. As the Divine Unity is captured by the mind, Love is sensed in the heart. At times, the heart’s “cupbearers of speech” offer these sherbets to other hearts as well. Hearts which taste the sweetest honey even just once always overflow with the same melodies:

“Take heed of this slave’s condition
How attached he’s been to a lock of Your hair
I kept on tasting the honey of Your love
I am parched; give me a sip of water!”
(Gadai)

References

1. M. Fethullah Gülen, Sohbet-i Cânan (Kırık Testi-2), İstanbul: Nil Yayınları, 2011, pp. 165.
2. Bediüzzaman Said Nursî, Mektubat, İstanbul: Şahdamar Yayınları, 2010, pp. 261–262.
3. www.khanacademy.org/test-prep/mcat/cells/embryology/a/human-embryogenesis
4. M. Fethullah Gülen, Kalbin Zümrüt Tepeleri, İstanbul: Nil Yayınları, 2008, pp. 565–566.
5. Bediüzzaman Said Nursî, Mektubat, İstanbul: Şahdamar Yayınları, 2010, pp. 262.
6. M. Fethullah Gülen, Kırık Mızrap, İstanbul: Nil Yayınları, 2006, pp. 31.
7. Bediüzzaman Said Nursî, Sözler, İstanbul: Şahdamar Yayınları, 2010, pp. 602.
8. 8. Fethullah Gülen, Kalbin Zümrüt Tepeleri, İstanbul: Nil Yayınları, 2008, pp. 194.

Although suffering always takes on the same form, dervishes experience it differently according to their capacities and their powers of resistance. Some are almost completely freed from corporeality and worldliness, and are content with extremely little to meet the essentials of life, spending all their time in worship, thinking and mentioning God. Some others try to live consciously every hour, minute and second, letting no part of life pass without an effort to attain His nearness. Hours pass, weeks follow one upon another, and hunger, thirst and other hardships continue, without any sign of ending, but a dervish who has been accustomed to suffering as a way of life never desires the periods of suffering to come to an end. However, when the first period of forty days ends, the guide investigates to see at what stage the dervish is. The guide looks into the heart of the individual or reflects upon any dreams or visions reported. If the dervish has reached the point of being able to lead a life at the level of the heart and spirit, the guide will then put an end to the period of suffering with certain ceremonies. But it is always possible that new periods will be assigned if the guide considers that the dervish still needs more suffering in order to complete the spiritual purification.

In addition to the Mawlawis—followers of the Sufi order attributed to Mawlana Jalalu’d-Din Rumi—Persians, Azerbaijanis and even some Baktashis—followers of a Turkish mystical order—have ceremonies of their own for suffering. To whatever spiritual order or way a dervish belongs, the purpose of suffering is that travelers to God should purify themselves, discover their inner world and advance toward new horizons through the steps that are to be taken during the spiritual journey, leading a life at the level of the heart and then deepening through their other innermost faculties, such as “the secret” and “the private,” and “the more private,” observing their relations with and duties to the guide, perceiving the significance of obedience to orders, and endowing their spirit with humility and a feeling of nothingness, sincerely adopting the principle of being a simple human being among the people. This is what the guides, who teach dervishes suffering, and the dervishes who suffer, are seeking and what they expect from suffering. The final goal is to become true, perfect human beings.

However, it is not inevitable that one must suffer a certain period in order to attain what is expected from suffering. It is possible to obtain the expected result by abstention from doubtful things, not only the forbidden ones, being content with the pleasures inherent in the lawful sphere under the supervision of a guide who has truly succeeded God’s Messenger, upon him be pace and blessings, and who has achieved the degree of great sainthood, by the acknowledgment of one’s innate poverty and helplessness before God, by thankfulness to Him, by zeal in serving His cause, and by exceptional piety, abstinence, and sincerity. What is absolutely essential in this way is that we should not approach the forbidden things, we should be careful about doubtful things, and we should benefit from the lawful only to the extent of what is necessary.

For those who succeed the Prophets, suffering is, rather than going into retreat to be busy with worship and the recitation of God’s Names, and the abandonment of an easy life for the sake of torment, the pursuit only of God’s good pleasure and approval, always being aware of God’s company even while among people, arousing in hearts zeal for worshipping God with sincere Islamic thoughts, feelings and attitudes, representing Islam in daily life in the best way possible, stirring up Islamic feelings in others, and by developing in others the desire to believe. This is the way of the Companions.

Suffering in this sense becomes, beyond our own spiritual progress, the dedication of our lives to the happiness of others in both worlds and living for others. In other words, we should seek our spiritual progress in the happiness of others. This is the most advisable and the best approved kind of suffering: that is, we die and are revived a few times a day for the guidance and happiness of others, we feel any fire raging in another heart also in our own heart, and we feel the suffering of all people in our spirits. In response to selfish considerations, such as “One who has not suffered does not know what suffering is,” we groan with the afflictions and pains which others in our immediate and distant surroundings endure.

Actively expecting (exerting the necessary efforts for) the subsidence of the storms of denial and heresy is a great suffering, while enduring with humility and grace life among rude and ignorant people in order to enlighten them both mentally and spiritually is double suffering. The struggle with the cruel people who take belief in and submission to God as a sport and who reject Islamic values is suffering upon suffering. Finally, in an atmosphere where all the causes of suffering already mentioned exist, and where friends are unfaithful, where time and conditions are pitiless, where troubles are numerous, where cures are extremely scant, where enemies are powerful, and where the wheel of events turn in the opposite direction, to always breathe in the atmosphere of the Ultimate Truth while having to live every moment of life as if sipping poison is the greatest of sufferings. All of this will help travelers to God to reach the final point in a very short time.

Those who suffered the most in this sense are the Prophets, and on their right and left are the pure, verifying scholars who succeed them and the saints. The hadith, Those who are subjected to the greatest afflictions and suffering are the Prophets, and then come others (according to the depth of their belief) [1] indicates this fact and reminds us that the intensity of suffering is directly proportional to the resistance of the sufferer.

There are few who really suffer in the sense that has been discussed here. It is not genuine suffering that people are subjected to in daily life. Those who really suffer feel suffering and bear it in their private worlds. It cannot be shared by others. Prophet Joseph, upon him be peace, whose suffering began when he was cast into a well, experienced suffering doubly in a foreign county when he was sold as a slave and thrown into jail, and left among a people who had a different culture and language, and who did not sympathize with him. The suffering he experienced purified and perfected him in the name of his mission as a Messenger; and God made him nearer to Him. Prophet Adam, upon him be peace, bore his suffering with tears, and Noah, upon him be peace, had to breast terrible disasters and destruction, while Abraham, upon him be peace, whom God took to Himself as an intimate friend, always had to travel in rings of fire. Prophet Moses, upon him be peace, whom God addressed directly, struggled fiercely against the rebellion of brute force. Jesus, upon him be peace, a pure spirit from God, called people to God under the fatal shadows of the gallows. And finally, the master of creation, upon him be peace and blessings, suffered all that the other Prophets and Messengers suffered. He wept tears, groaned and burnt inwardly for the salvation and happiness of others, but without displaying any sign of suffering.

Hundreds of sufferers from the first day of human history have tasted the pleasure of suffering for the salvation and happiness of others in both worlds in utmost submission to God and have been wholly dedicated to the life of others, without ever considering that they have been made to experience the greatest of sufferings. More than this, they have welcomed such suffering and have been intoxicated with the pleasure thus received.

Suffering of thought is also another great suffering. Thinking, leading others to think, setting themselves to solve the severest problems and world-heavy enigmas, including that of existence, is a form of suffering. Without yielding, making  compositions and syntheses from the thought under the guidance of the Divine Revelation and presenting pure extracts produced from these compositions and syntheses to “hungry” and “thirsty” hearts and minds: this is the suffering in which the heroes of suffering, who are as sincere as angels and who have followed the Messengers, have found an antidote for poison in the poison itself, peace and coolness in the fire, having experienced such with the greatest pleasure. Such people are fortunate that there is no end to their periods of suffering; they cannot be pleased with the idea that such suffering is bound to come to an end. If you attempt to take them out of gardens of suffering, you will not be able to do so; if you were able to do so, you would extinguish their fire and leave them to die.

It is this suffering which is the purest source that feeds the spirit of a true dervish, and which is the most powerful means for travelers to the Ultimate Truth to reach eternality.

Our Lord! In You we trust, and to You we turn in contrition, and to You is our homecoming. Our Lord! Pour out upon us patience, and set our feet firm, and help us to victory over the unbelievers. And bestow blessings and peace on our master Muhammad, the leader of those nearest and most lovable to You, and on his Family and Companions, patient and faithful.

Notes

• at-Tirmidhi, “Zuhd,” 57; Ibn Maja, “Fitan,” 23.

When crime happens, it usually involves two kinds of stakeholders: primary and secondary (McCold 2000). The categorization is based on who is affected the most, ranging from the victims and offenders as the most affected, to the community and the state as the least affected. Currently, conventional criminal justice systems around the world are still heavily punitive, resulting in the state, instead, becoming the primary stakeholders. This is because in most parts of criminal processes, the state acts as the main decisionmaker, often making the victims and offenders feel unheard.

To address this, various scholars argue for an alternative justice process that re-centers victims and offenders as primary stakeholders. Restorative justice, as one kind of alternative justice process, redirects the assumption that crime is a transgression against the state—which is the secondary stakeholder as it is indirectly affected by crime—to the view that crime is a transgression against the primary stakeholders, or the ones directly affected by the crime: the victims, the offenders, and their respective families (Fritz 2005, Wolhuter, Olley and Denham 2009). Programs of restorative justice include mediations between the victims and offenders, family group conferences, and community service.

Restorative justice is beneficial to both parties as it allows the criminal processes to be less punitive and more rehabilitative and nurturing. The benefits of restorative justice are extensive. For the victims, their satisfaction increases thanks to the platform allowing them to express their feelings related to their victimization (Latimer, Dowden and Muise 2005), and their fear of crime decreases (Umbreit, Coates and Kalanj 1994). For offenders, it has been documented that restorative justice reduces the likelihood of reoffending (Bradshaw, Roseborough and Umbreit 2006) and increases compliance with the outcome of criminal processes (Latimer, Dowden and Muise 2005).

These benefits are said to result from the nurturing components of restorative justice (Azman and Mohammad 2012). These components emphasize human interactions such as face-to-face meetups between the victims and the offenders, having an open dialogue, focusing on restoration rather than punishment, and underscoring community-based processes. Furthermore, rather than sidelining the victims, restorative justice encourages their participation, which also directly benefits the offenders due to increased empathy from the interactions.

Restorative justice and spirituality

Restorative justice is a form of social justice. Social justice has been the cause of many renowned spiritual individuals, such as Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. (Bazemore and Schiff 2001). Although not usually mentioned by many restorative justice advocates and scholars, restorative justice has inherently spiritual elements.

It would be helpful to understand what I mean by spirituality. Spirituality is defined as a person’s relationship to the unknown (Senreich 2013). A bit differently, Zehr (1990)—considered a father of restorative justice—saw spirituality as universal principles and natural laws which cannot be ignored, such as the human need of connectedness. Another scholar defines spirituality with an emphasis on the process of a person’s development of a sense of meaning and purpose (Zastrow 2013).

Regardless of the many definitions, spirituality is agreed upon by various scholars to be different from religiosity (Koenig 2008). This is due to the existence of individuals who do not hold any relationship with God. These people can still be spiritual in ways, such as seeking the meaning and purpose of life with connectedness through other transcendental elements such as nature and the universe. Commonly, regardless of the existence of a belief system, seeking a high level of spirituality is often associated with fostering positive relationships with oneself, others, and the environment (Senreich 2013).

Human relationships are highly valued in restorative justice. In a typical restorative justice encounter, participants—often comprising victims, offenders, and, optionally, their family members—are encouraged to talk and listen to each other (Bender and Armour 2007). This process seeks to encourage empathy. Victims can understand why offenders committed the crime, and offenders understand what victims truly experience after being a victim of their crime. Criminal processes that lack this element of dialogue lack empathy—and often produce frustrated victims, and offenders who are ignorant about the true nature of their crime. This has negative impacts on the well-being of both the victims and the offenders.

Therefore, one of the ultimate goals of restorative justice is healing relationships. Literature points to the common characteristics of offenders who recidivate: their relationships with other people, such as their family members, community members, and others, are often broken (Cochran 2012, Wright and Wright 1993). Although their victim may not be an individual connected to the offender’s life before crime, a healed relationship between an offender with their victims may also be therapeutic for both. As a result, rather than having the mentality of “us vs. them,” restorative justice unites these separate individuals into one healing network.

Another concept associated with spirituality that has a parallel with restorative justice is the search for meaning. After their victimization, victims often require answers to many questions (Wemmers 2002) that are often unanswerable through conventional criminal justice systems. In a way, this can be viewed as victims searching for the “meaning” of their victimization. Furthermore, Umbreit (1989) argued that victims do not want revenge and want fairness that may be achieved in the form of direct accountability. One of the definitions of spirituality presented above sees spirituality as one’s search for meaning and purpose in life (Senreich 2013). This definition is in line with a philosophy of restorative justice that practices transparency and accountability among its participants through dialogues and exchanges of insights.

The concept of direct accountability in restorative justice is achieved in many ways. After a crime, victims often seek answers to many questions very personal to the victimization, such as “Why me?” and “How did you do it?” These questions seem simple, but they represent the victim’s deeper need for resolution and well-being. Not getting the answers to these questions brings the victims to dark places, including often demonizing the offenders. Conventional criminal processes are not able to provide the answers to these questions due to their impersonal and punitive approach to justice and their assumption that when a crime is committed, it is a transgression against the state, not the victims.

Forgiveness is another element of spirituality that is integrated into restorative justice (Bender and Armour 2007). Forgiveness is essentially finding values in others due to several reasons such as humanity and altruism, and this has been succinctly captured by Elkins et al. (1988), who stated that spiritual individuals usually have a mission in life that may include the idea of saving humanity. Furthermore, Elkins et al. denoted that a spiritual person is “tragically aware” in that they realize the flaws of human life. This includes other realities such as death, suffering, or even crime.

Victims who forgive in restorative justice encounters are reported to want to maintain their view that offenders are still human (Ezeihuoma 2018). Victims who forgive also experience a higher level of satisfaction, better mental health, and a lower fear of crime. However, to garner all these benefits, victims have to forgive voluntarily (although the platform to give forgiveness has to be provided). This is where restorative justice comes into the picture. Forgiveness is often an outcome of restorative justice encounters, and most victims and offenders want it to happen.

Achieving spiritual wellness through restorative justice

While restorative justice is a philosophy often discussed in the context of crime and criminal justice, restorative justice undoubtedly offers valuable insights for achieving spiritual wellness in everyday life, too. Social workers, as professionals whose ultimate goal is to achieve an optimal quality of life for their clients, often see spirituality as a gateway to tranquility and well-being. According to Elkins et al. (1988), spirituality has to be humanistic not just for its universality, but for its association with subjective human experience.

On an individual level, spiritual wellness may be achieved through a deep reflection towards connectedness with the self, others, and the environment. To achieve this, restorative justice proponents advocate for human interactions that can provide an individual with a multitude of perspectives which can increase understanding and empathy. Psychologists and social workers often integrate human interactions in various parts of their interventions such as family therapy and community service. Only through these human interactions can individuals be provided with resources for meaning and purpose via the perspectives of others. Therefore, an individual who finds meaning and purpose is an individual who is spiritually well.

Furthermore, restorative justice emphasizes the unconditional view that humanity is flawed. In this regard, the simplest phrase that can be used is “everyone makes mistakes.” This transcendental view of humanity accepts that flaws and mistakes do not demonize a person but humanize them. Appreciating this perspective is a difficult task as it is easy for humans to be struck by the realities of tragedies and is why forgiveness is valuable and can help individuals seeking spiritual enlightenment turn over a new leaf.

Conclusion

Spirituality is increasingly acknowledged as one of the basic human needs. Ignoring spirituality in human development can threaten comprehensive wellbeing. This article explains restorative justice as an alternative approach to justice and shows how the success of restorative justice may be explained partly through its spiritual elements such as forgiveness and human connectedness. However, there is much to learn from the philosophy and practice of restorative justice which can be useful for everyday life. Integrating restorative justice into everyday life, even in the smallest ways, can help foster wellbeing, especially in the spiritual sense.

References

Azman, Azlinda, and Mohd Taufik Mohammad. 2012. “Crime victims support system and restorative justice: Possible implementation in Malaysia.” Journal of Arts and Humanities 1: 18-26.

Bazemore, Gordon , and Mara Schiff. 2001. Restorative community justice: Repairing harm and transforming communities. London: Routledge.

Bender, K, and M Armour. 2007. “The spiritual components of restorative justice.” Victims & Offenders 2: 251-267.

Bradshaw, William, David Roseborough, and Mark S Umbreit. 2006. “The effect of victim offender mediation on juvenile offender recidivism: A meta-analysis.” Conflict Resolution Quarterly 24: 87-98.

Cochran, J C. 2012. “The ties that bind or the ties that break: Examining the relationship between visitation and prisoner misconduct.” Journal of Criminal Justice 40: 433–440.

Elkins, D N, L J Hedstrom, L L Hughes, J A Leaf, and C Saunders. 1988. “Toward a humanistic-phenomenological spirituality: Definition, description, and measurement.” Journal of Humanistic Psychology 28: 5-18.

Ezeihuoma, O P. 2018. “The therapeutic role of forgiveness in restorative justice.” Journal of Law and Criminal Justice 6: 47-54.

Fritz, David. 2005. “A vital Christian presence in social work.” North American Association of Christians in Social Work Convention. Connecticut: North American Association of Christians in Social Work (NACSW).

Koenig, H G. 2008. “Concerns about measuring “spirituality” in research.” The Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease 196: 349-355.

Latimer, Jeff , Craig Dowden, and Danielle Muise. 2005. “The effectiveness of restorative justice practices: A meta-analysis.” The Prison Journal 85: 127-144.

McCold, Paul. 2000. “Toward a mid-range theory of restorative criminal justice: A reply to the Maximalist model.” Contemporary Justice Review 3: 357-414.

Senreich, E. 2013. “An inclusive definition of spirituality for social work education and practice.” Journal of Social Work Education 49: 548-563.

Umbreit, M S, R B Coates, and B Kalanj. 1994. Victim meets offender: The impact of restorative justice and mediation. Victoria: Australia: Criminal Justice Press.

Umbreit, Mark S. 1989. “Crime victims seeking fairness, not revenge: Toward restorative justice.” Fed. Probation 53: 52.

Wemmers, JoAnne. 2002. “Restorative justice for victims of crime: A victim-oriented approach to restorative justice.” International Review of Victimology 9: 43-59.

Wolhuter, Lorraine, Neil Olley, and David Denham. 2009. Victimology: Victimisation and victims’ rights. Oxon: Routledge-Cavendish.

Wright, K N, and K E Wright. 1993. “Family life and delinquency and crime.” National Criminal Justice Reference Service. https://www.ncjrs.gov/pdffiles1/Digitization/140517NCJRS.pdf.

Zastrow, C H. 2013. The practice of social work: A comprehensive worktext. Brooks/Cole-Cengage Learning.

Zehr, H. 1990. Changing lenses: Restorative justice for our times. Herald Press.

Our dreams are fragile. Our dreams can fade away almost instantly when our beliefs weaken, or our needs are not met. A single child’s dream can change the lives of many people. One such child in India, who used to sell stuff in a local bazaar for his bread in the 1960s, was dreaming of becoming a doctor. All he needed was genuine help, help with pure intention, help with no interest.

Against all odds, he continued to have strong faith and was able to attend medical school. He needed to get financial support to continue his schooling. Thankfully, his friends offered genuine help. After he finished the medical school with outstanding scores he got a residency in the US and became a Pulmonary Critical Care physician. The genuine help with no interest has given its fruits, and he is not only giving genuine help back to his own friends but also to his close and extended family. He has changed the lives of tens, even hundreds, of people.

This was the story told by Dr. Atar Haq at A Continuous Charity (ACC) fundraiser event in Philadelphia. Dr. Haq was sharing his father’s story. It was his father who inspired him to launch ACC. I was very impressed by the story, as it reflected my own life. I found myself thinking that all we need is strong faith and genuine help.

When I was 18, I also made the choice to pursue my dream of studying abroad. Although I faced the obstacle of securing the means to make the trip possible, I was determined to put forth the effort to make my dream a reality. I was fortunate to connect with an agency that supports study-abroad students through scholarships. The agency is a non-profit volunteer organization from the Muslim community in Turkey that believes in the value of education. They gather funds from stakeholders, primarily Turkish, to support students’ education. They offered the genuine help I needed most. Thanks to God, my beliefs persisted, and my needs were met; my dream came true, and I attended a medical school in China.

As I pursued my studies, I began to dream of doing my clinical training in America. For four months after my graduation, I scoured career networking sites for an opportunity. Thankfully, I found a volunteer research position at Thomas Jefferson University in Philadelphia, PA. With only $400 to my name, I took a leap of faith chasing my dreams. Performing research while pursuing a residency was not easy, but I continued to believe and eventually found an organization that supports medical students and graduates pursuing residencies. I was truly blessed and grateful while remaining aware that God provides a path to whoever shows effort. I continued conducting my unpaid research while this organization extended its genuine hand.

Although my research kept me busy, I felt lonely praying in the university library and living around Center City in Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love. I felt a need to connect, to be a part of a community where everybody helps each other with a genuine heart and nothing in return. This need pushed me to reach out to the Muslim Student Association (MSA). Little did I know that this would be my introduction to lifelong friends. It was also my introduction to community work: I served as a medical volunteer for the ICNA Relief SHAMS Clinic, a free clinic that serves poor neighborhoods in Philadelphia. 

The brothers from the MSA also introduced me to A Continuous Charity (ACC), the organization I mentioned in the beginning. ACC supports Muslim students in obtaining interest-free loans to fund their education. They help students who, just like me, have a foundational belief but no means to satisfy their dreams. My best friend, Usman, was heavily involved in their work, and, through my participation in ACC, I learned about the student debt crisis in America, a matter that struck a chord with me. Since the chapter was founded in Pennsylvania three years ago, they have given interest-free loans to 23 students like me who are seeking higher education. This support is important to offset the staggering number of American Muslims forced to either forego higher education or get loans with interest to support their aspirations, which is problematic, for Islam does not allow interest (this is a very detailed topic, so I’d recommend readers to explore what is in the prohibited category and what is not). Even without this Islamic prohibition, one of the biggest problems in America is the student debt crisis. Many organizations work tirelessly to fight this crisis, including the Jewish Free Loan Association, Evalee C. Schwarz Charitable Trust for Education, Annie Seibel Foundation, and Bill Roskob Foundation. I wholeheartedly support the efforts of these organizations. After I was introduced to the ACC PA chapter, I started actively participating in community outreach activities; I heard the story of Dr. Haq’s father at one of these events.

As I continued managing my research, completing my exams, and applying for a medical residency, I could feel my time in Philadelphia running out. Alhamdulillah (all thanks and gratitude belongs to God), I matched at a neurology residency program at the University of Massachusetts, in Worcester. Once again, I looked back and was grateful that God had given me the faith and means to continue following my dreams. Thankful for everyone who supported my education, I promised myself and Allah I would, in turn, support the next generation of students who have dreams but no means. Although I am eager to give back to the organizations that supported me, the ACC PA chapter is also a great medium through which I can give genuine help to students. Traditional government loans charge interest, causing a financial burden that can delay students’ family planning, prolong debt payment plans, and cause stress. In comparison, I never felt stressed about the support I received from these organizations while studying in China and pursuing my career in the United States. When I reflect on what might have happened if I’d had to finance my education through traditional means, I wonder whether I would have continued pursuing this path. I am filled with gratitude in every single part of my body and in all the neurons of my brain. My success and the success of individuals like me will make a stronger community that serves others with genuine heart, hand, and help.

The pomegranate (Punica granatum L.) is a fruit with abundant seeds and a perfect packaging. A vital food and medicine provider across different civilizations for thousands of years, the pomegranate has a different taste depending on variety and maturity. It may taste very sweet, very sour, or sharp. Botanically, it is a fleshy fruit from the berry group with an ovary from a single flower and typically has several seeds. The crown jewel of the fruit world, the pomegranate is widely consumed due to its nutritional properties, benefits, and taste. Unlike many fruit trees, both male and female pomegranate flowers are produced on the same tree, meaning the male flower can pollinate other flowers on the same tree or other trees.

Astonishing due to its extraordinary packaging system, the pomegranate has been grown in the tropical regions of India, Asia, the Mediterranean, and Africa for centuries. Since ancient times, is has been a symbol of fertility and has been depicted in different arts throughout history. The fruit has different meanings in various beliefs and religions and is introduced in three verses in the Qur’an, where it is called rumman. “There are (unseen) fruits, dates and pomegranates in (these two paradises)” [1]. Mentioned in the verse as a fruit of paradise, it can be consumed fresh and used in the manufacture of medicine and dyes. It can also be processed into pomegranate molasses, syrup, seed oil, fruit juice, or vinegar. In the Indian alternative medicine system (Ayurveda), the pomegranate is considered “a pharmacy in itself.” And while it is widely used as a hemostatic and antimicrobial agent in Persian traditional medicine, its husk has been used to cure asthma, chronic diarrhea, dysentery, and intestinal worms. Its juice has been used in the treatment of aphthae and ulcers in India, Tunisia, and Guatemala [2]. Bediuzzaman gives pomegranate as an example to portray God’s blessings upon us: “While the pomegranate tree contents itself with muddy and turbid water, it feeds its fruit with a pure drink from the treasure of Divine Mercy” (The Seventeenth Gleam, Eighth Note). “For by exhibiting a wise beauty of art, as well as meaningful and subtle ornament, that amaze all minds, it has displayed a work of art like an ode in praise of the All-Majestic Maker. Look carefully at pomegranates and ears of corn, for example” (Thirtieth Word). There is an exclusive art and wisdom in each fruit bestowed from our Lord’s treasury of mercy.

The pomegranate husk

The red-violet husk has two parts: the outer part (hard, pericarp) and the inner part (white, spongy, mesocarp). The mesocarp is where the inner wall grains (aryls) are attached. Inner membranes are arranged in unsymmetrical chambers for the aryls. The husk makes up approximately 30-40% of the fruit. It contains phenolic compounds, flavonoids, tannins, and phenolic acids as well as punicalagin (a toxin-repellent substance), with its distinctly high antioxidant effect. Thanks to this feature, the pomegranate husk is widely used in the pharmaceutical industry for its anti-carcinogenic and antibacterial effects. Research showed strong antibacterial activity in the active ingredients of the pomegranate husk, especially against E. coli, E. faecalis, S. aureus, and B. subtilis [3]. It has also been shown that it may have a potential effect in the prevention and treatment of obesity as well as against fungi such as Aspergillus flavus [4]. The pomegranate husk, which we usually discard, is known for its helpful effects against diabetes, cancer, and cardiovascular diseases [5]. It also has higher antioxidant potential than the pulp, seed, and juice extracts. This is one of the best proofs nothing is useless or worthless. Some studies have shown that husk extract may be beneficial against diseases such as Alzheimer’s and dementia thanks to its memory-enhancing effect. As per findings, it also reduces blood sugar (glucose), cholesterol and its derivatives, and increases hemoglobin levels [6]. The pomegranate husk can be made into tea or consumed as spice additive.

Pomegranate seeds

Drawing attention with their resemblance to blood cells, pomegranate seeds get their red hue from polyphenols. These antioxidants can help destroy free radicals, protect cells from damage, and reduce inflammation. They sustain the skin health, and support the heart and veins to be healthy and flexible, and keep blood values at normal levels. Pomegranates contain three times more antioxidants than green tea and other fruit juices due to the punicalagin found in their seeds [7]. Pomegranate seeds are also rich in vitamins and minerals such as vitamin C, iron, potassium, phosphorus, sodium, and zinc.

In some cultures, the pomegranate represents fertility. This may be in relation to the fact that they contain hormones that support reproduction—another reason could be that there are as many as 600-1000 pomegranate seeds in one pomegranate. Oxidative stress has been revealed to cause egg dysfunction and reduction of fertility in women. Pomegranates help reduce oxidative stress and may increase fertility. Pomegranate seeds can increase testosterone levels in men and estrogen hormone levels in women [8].

Specially packaged in their membrane called pericarp, the pomegranate seeds (aryls) are presented to us as a delicious healing store [9]. Besides easing stomach ailments, the pomegranate seeds also help regulate blood circulation and alleviate heart-related problems, dental problems, osteoarthritis, anemia, and diabetes.

Pomegranate juice

While the consumption of fruit juice is not advised in functional medicine due to fructose and pulp-free content, pomegranate juice is allowed. Pomegranate juice contains anthocyanin, glucose, ascorbic acid, ellagic acid, gallic acid, catechin, amino acids, iron, and minerals. Since ancient times, pomegranate has often been recommended for digestive system disorders. Recent studies reveal the improvement of cardiac functions in patients who drink pomegranate juice every day for three months [10]. Pomegranate juice has also been discovered to reduce colon cancer cells and prevent the development of prostate tumors in men and breast tumors in women [11]. Pomegranate juice is the best juice for heart health. As studies have shown, pomegranate juice improves blood flow, prevents hardening and thickening of the arteries, and can slow the growth of plaque and the accumulation of cholesterol. However, pomegranate may react negatively with blood pressure and cholesterol medications like statins [12]. Those who are on medication should consume pomegranate juice with caution. Pomegranate juice can heal inflammation in the intestines and can help solve digestive problems [13]. Since it contains 28-30% tannins, the pomegranate husk is also used in fabric dyeing and ink production, especially in leather.

The beauty and elegance of the pomegranate flower also heralds the taste and benefits of the fruit still in formation. The pomegranate, with its myriad forms, is a source of healing from cancer to diabetes, from blood pressure to heart diseases, from cosmetics to antibacterial and antimicrobial diseases. It is a fruit that should be consumed in abundance, especially in fall and winter. Pomegranate Gives many reasons for us to ponder over the many blessings we are bestowed with in this world.

References

1. Holy Qur’an, 55:68.
2. Khwairakpam, A. D., Bordoloi, D., Thakur, K. K., Monisha, J., Arfuso, F., Sethi, G., … & Kunnumakkara, A. B. (2018). Possible use of Punica granatum (Pomegranate) in cancer therapy. Pharmacological research, 133, 53-64.
3. Moneim, A. E. A. (2012). Antioxidant activities of Punica granatum (pomegranate) peel extract on brain of rats. Journal of Medicinal Plants Research, 6(2), 195-199.
4. Wu, D., Ma, X., & Tian, W. (2013). Pomegranate husk extract, punicalagin and ellagic acid inhibit fatty acid synthase and adipogenesis of 3T3-L1 adipocyte. Journal of Functional Foods, 5(2), 633-641.
5. Moneim, A. E. A. (2012). Antioxidant activities of Punica granatum (pomegranate) peel extract on brain of rats. Journal of Medicinal Plants Research, 6(2), 195-199.
6. Radhika, S., Smila, K. H., & Muthezhilan, R. (2011). Antidiabetic and hypolipidemic activity of Punica granatum Linn on alloxan induced rats. World Journal of Medical Sciences, 6(4), 178-182.
7. Gil, M. I., Tomás-Barberán, F. A., Hess-Pierce, B., Holcroft, D. M., & Kader, A. A. (2000). Antioxidant activity of pomegranate juice and its relationship with phenolic composition and processing. Journal of Agricultural and Food chemistry, 48(10), 4581-4589.
8. Al-Dujaili, E., & Smail, N. (2012, March). Pomegranate juice intake enhances salivary testosterone levels and improves mood and well-being in healthy men and women. In Endocrine Abstracts(Vol. 28). Bioscientifica.
9. About the membranes, Ali ibn Abu Talib said, “Eat the pomegranate with its membrane, for it cleanses the stomach” (Ahmed ibn Hanbal, V, 382).
10. Sahebkar, A., Ferri, C., Giorgini, P., Bo, S., Nachtigal, P., & Grassi, D. (2017). Effects of pomegranate juice on blood pressure: A systematic review and meta-analysis of randomized controlled trials. Pharmacological Research, 115, 149-161.
11. https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/12-proven-benefits-of-pomegranate#TOC_TITLE_HDR_6
12. https://www.nccih.nih.gov/health/pomegranate
13. https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/318385

As the famous Sufi poet Jalal al-Din al-Rumi (d. 1273) once said, “Listen with ears of tolerance, see through eyes of compassion, speak with the language of love” [1]. It was Rumi’s mystical falling in love with God that animated his affective poetry. For many a modern-day observer, however, the connotations of such words as “religion” and “God” would seem divisive and sectarian beyond any hope. There are, however, two prominent theologians of our time who demonstrate that religion and inclusivism are not mutually exclusive: the Canadian philosopher and Catholic theologian Bernard Lonergan (1904-1984) and the Turkish Islamic intellectual Bediuzzaman Said Nursi (1873-1960). The two have wielded, and still do, considerable influence upon their respective religious milieus, presenting original and yet faithful interpretations of their respective traditions that are sensitive to the intellectual and spiritual exigencies of modernity. The two showed that their interpretations of religious experience are conducive to peacemaking and interreligious dialogue.

During his lifetime, Nursi several times reached out to Christian leaders, the most important instances being sending his works to Pope Pius XII in 1950 and visiting the Ecumenical Patriarch Athenagoras in Istanbul in 1953 [2]. Further, despite constant state persecution and arbitrary imprisonments, Nursi’s whole life exemplified his innovative and yet deeply Islamic notion of a “spiritual” or “educational” jihad (jihad-i manawi), one that never resorts to violence and opposes not physical, but “spiritual” enemies: ignorance, poverty, and division. Fr. Thomas Michel, who worked in the Vatican as a Head of the Office for relations with Muslims from 1981 to 1994, states, “Along with Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Said Nursi must be seen as one of the Twentieth Century’s great exponents of non-violent resistance” [3].

Lonergan, in turn, is an important Neo-Thomist thinker who was once presented on the cover of Time magazine as “one of the finest philosophic thinkers of the twentieth Century” [4]. He worked out a transcendental theory of intentional interiority that allows him to argue that dialogue is a must not only between empirical science and theology but also between different religions and diverse worldviews. This article will demonstrate how the two thinkers base their idea of interreligious dialogue on their interpretations of the inward dimension of their religious traditions as an “infatuation with beauty” and a “falling in love,” as well as analysing how their interpretations can foster interfaith dialogue.

Nursi’s philosophy of interreligious dialogue

The value that Nursi places on accepting and understanding the culturally “Other” can be better portrayed if we attend to his epistemology. Nursi incessantly underscores that all his treatises (generically called the Risale-i Nur [Epistles of Light]) are inspired by the Qur’an: he almost always cites a verse of the Qur’an at the beginning of key passages and provides, through what follows, an exegesis of the verse [5]. His interpretation of the Qur’an, in turn, insistently reverts his reader’s attention to the observed data of the sensible world in order to reveal how the created entities point beyond themselves to the divine “Wholly Other” – so much so that, for Nursi, the entire universe might be seen as a materialized form of the Qur’an [6]. This radiant inward dimension of being is called Malakutiyyah (“Intellective Realm”), whereas the outward dimension of the physical world, Mulkiyyah (“Material Realm”). Malakutiyyah discloses itself to anyone who personally reflects and deliberates (tafakkar) on the design of the world after the model provided by Nursi’s exegesis and with the intention of “finding” God in everything. Nursi allegorically assimilates this “Intellective Realm” to the transparent frontside of the mirror. Even if very different forms – some apparently ugly and some apparently beautiful – “intrude” on the Mulkiyyah side of the “mirror,” its “Intellective” aspect always remains transparent and beautiful, as it looks to the Creator of all beings [7]. On the Malakutiyyah level, all individual entities of the world – humanity first and foremost – constantly and ubiquitously partake of divine holiness thanks to their being loci of Allah’s reflected “Superb Names” (al-Asma’ al-Husna) mentioned in the Qur’an. Even if God’s essence (Zhatullah) is ineffable, the divine names’ observable activity in the world displays divine artistry for anyone willing to intend God through his or her reflective thought. Such a thought will show that, for instance, philosophy is based on the Superb Name Hakim (All-Wise), medicine on the Name Shafi (Healer), and geometry on the Name Muqaddir (Determiner), and so on. The same goes for human perfections and all levels of human virtues – they are founded on the Superb Names [8].

It is this inward “Qur’anic” outlook that allows Nursi to perceive everything in the world as intelligible and dialogic in the sense that all created entities – different as they might be in appearance – are essentially beautiful divine “mirrors” telling something about God and requiring that their observers appreciate them: “Beauty and fairness desire to see and be seen. Both require the existence of yearning witnesses and bewildered admirers” [9]. This yearning and this admiration show all things as inwardly lovable and allows Nursi to say, “Love is the cause of the universe’s existence and is what binds it; and it is both the light of the universe and its life. Since man is the most comprehensive fruit of the universe, a love that will conquer the universe has been included in his heart, the seed of that fruit” [10].

Of course, Nursi’s constant focus on his “Qur’anic lenses” might invoke – in some people’s minds – a sense of absolutism and inability to learn from the culturally Other. To ward off such a possibility, Nursi bases his idea of beings as “mirrors of God” on two aspects. First, in the same way as the darkness serves as a foil for the beauty of light to manifest, the impotence of human beings – their weaknesses, shortcomings, and mistakes – serve as a foil for the power of the All-Powerful, All-Subsistent and Perfect One to manifest His Names all the more intensively. So, Nursi warns that the believer is to use the reflective thought to see how the Superb Names self-manifest through things and through his or her own being, not in things or in his or her being, lest he or she come to deify or absolutize his or her personality, culture, or nationality [11]. Secondly, human beings are only mirrors to the Names, not the authentic possessors thereof [12]. (That is to say, humans, thanks to their self-awareness and if they are not self-conceited, are able to compare their activity/attributes with those of the Transcendent and come to appreciate the latter’s awe-inspiring beauty, i.e. come to know God. Someone who has built a physical house and self-identifies as a “builder,” for instance, can profoundly admire the One who has built the magnificent Universe.) Our “mirror-like” nature, however, manifests the Superb Names only in an incomplete manner; for Nursi, we “possess” them in a metaphorical, partial, and temporary manner. This, in turn, means that our “mirror-like” natures are inherently open to learn from the manifestations of the Superb Names within other cultures and religions.

This being the case, for Nursi, no animosity can make serious inroads in the minds of those who can contemplate the Real in this vein. Even if someone does not accept the Real as such, this “someone” remains His mirror, epiphany, and masterpiece, which means that he or she is to be ontologically appreciated, not violated against. However, in Nursi’s view, one is able to realize this sense of appreciation of the world only if one purifies one’s sense of self – which he calls “I-ness” (anā) – from any egocentrism. If anā looks at one’s selfhood with an attitude that is self-indicative rather than God-indicative, the entirety of the reflections of the Names come to be attributed to the human person’s ego, thereby giving rise to spiritual ignorance and intolerance [13].

Lonergan’s philosophy of interreligious dialogue

 The very heart of Lonergan’s take on interreligious dialogue rests in what he calls “GEM” (“Generalized Empirical Method”): it provides a basis not only for any interdisciplinary cooperation, but for interreligious dialogue as well. It presupposes that, at least theoretically, the disinterested desire to know and wonder – which is pertinent to all humans as long as they are humans and not only scientists, historians of religion, or theologians – drives all humans to be attentive to data, intelligent in understanding, reasonable in judgments, and responsible in decisions [14]. Lonergan’s system proposes that the very structure of the interlocutors’ intentional consciousness leads them to seek what is authentic and true in the ways of the religious Other and to anticipate the possibility of “integrated understanding” between various religious traditions. Further, the interlocutors should see any differences, obvious as they are at first glance, as “genetic,” i.e., reconcilable, rather than “dialectic,” i.e., irreconcilable. Any point-blank refusal of the interlocutors to see the existence of at least some important similarities with the Other, signals, for Lonergan, an unauthenticity of their own thinking due to its affliction with one or several biases [15]. That is, the powerful drive of the interlocutors’ disinterested desire to wonder in an unrestricted manner might be frustrated by one or several of the following four biases. The first one is dramatic bias, that is, the existence of psychic aberrations or underdevelopment within the interlocutors caused by their “psychic wounds.” The second one is egoistic bias, i.e., one’s self-centeredness that refuses to allow for even a minimal degree of self-abnegation necessary to consider the common good. The third one is collective bias that “favors what is best for the group at the expense of others outside the group.” The fourth one is general bias that disregards questions that do not seem to be of immediate practical importance [16].

Further, Lonergan asserts that, if one self-transcends by remaining not only attentive, not only intelligent, not only reasonable, but also responsible (he calls these levels of intentionality as the “four transcendentals”), one comes to be well-positioned to reach the fullness of one’s ontological, axiological, and epistemological horizons by mystically falling “in love with God” in an immediate and unrestricted manner [17]. This love operates within the parameters of one’s intentional interiority, and yet it comes as a free gift of God’s grace that brings about the most genuine state of one’s relation to God, namely a “dynamic state of being in love in an unrestricted manner” [18]. This unmediated experience of God’s love is transcultural as far as its inner nature  goes; from the standpoint of different cultural contexts and historical periods, it is mediated differently through different religious and cultural expressions, practices, and traditions [19]. Lonergan calls this experience as the “infrastructure” or “inner word” which ensues upon the Holy Spirit “flooding one’s heart,” and it becomes a hermeneutical toolkit for one’s authentic response to the challenges of interreligious dialogue [20].

Even if this mystical state of “being-in-love” is transcultural, for Lonergan, the Christian claim that religion is being in love with God in an unrestricted manner, renders Christianity unique. Lonergan insists that the “outer word” of the Christian tradition is more than just a religious experience objectified: it was given as revelation, coming from Jesus Christ [21]. That is, for Lonergan, “infrastructure” that informs the very spirit of religious faith, presupposes its mediation and objectification vis-à-vis the world through the “superstructure” of language and beliefs, meanings and values, scripture and sacraments, and community and culture. For him, however, Christian doctrine is this “superstructure” par excellence, and its unique appropriateness cannot be transcended by any universal mystical experience [22]. In other words, for Lonergan, the authoritativeness and structure of this outer word is such that it can be conceived as the most direct mediation of immediacy and becomes, if properly appropriated, “second immediacy” [23].  

Differences-in-Similarities

As follows from the abovementioned, the positions of the two thinkers can be broadly identified as “inclusivism.” While they acknowledge that God’s salvific activity can unfold everywhere in the world in an overt or covert manner, they make it clear that, wherever it unfolds, it does so as either the ubiquitous operation of the Qur’anic “Superb Names” (Nursi) or the Christian notion of “love of God flooding our hearts” (Lonergan). Both seem to have realized that most people are never totally detached from their tradition and that any God-talk is bound to be “confessional” – but not necessarily “confessionalist.” Naturally, one starts interreligious dialogue based on the minimal “non-negotiable,” premises of one’s religion.

At first glance, Lonergan’s clear distinction between the “inner word” as pertaining to the “unmediated experience of the mystery of love” and the “outer word” as this love’s mediated expression, allows him to see a somewhat deeper unity behind the differences. For him, the gift of God’s love justifies dialogue with “all Christians, with non-Christians, and even with atheists who may love God in their hearts while not knowing him with their heads” [24]. For Nursi, in contrast, aggressive atheism is evil to be wrestled with by the “Qur’anic sword of persuasion”; it is irreconcilable with genuine civilization. Indeed, he sees an atheistic civilization a contradiction in terms, for genuine civilization is possible only if humans recognize the transcendent meaning of their lives and thus gain in virtue [25].

Yet, the importance of the mystical love of God as the inner telos behind all events is the common point in which the dialectics of their difference might be resolved. Nursi’s overall accent on one’s affective appreciation of the beauty of the world as reflective of the divine beauty, allows one to contextualize his apparently incoherent lack of charity toward atheistically minded people. It might hark back to such facts as his identification of the penetration of atheistic assertions and materialistic ideologies as the root problem facing the Muslim world at the start of the 20^th century or his lack of travel to Europe at the time of peace (he spent 2 years in Russia but only as a prisoner-of-war) [26]. The inner structure of Nursi’s theology makes it incumbent upon his followers – under normal social and political conditions – to pursue meaningful dialogue even with non-religious or atheistic people. Another possibility to reconcile Nursi’s position with that of Lonergan’s is to address the meaning of the word “atheism.” If it denotes, as John Paul II said, “not knowing the true nature of created reality but absolutizing it, and therefore ‘idolizing’ it,” [27] then Lonergan’s discourse on biases would rather concur with Nursi’s strictures on atheism. 

Conclusion

As Ian Markham, a Nursi scholar and Episcopal priest says, in order for any interfaith encounter to be meaningful, one has to know, understand, and love one’s own tradition, for one will “find it easy to recognize in others the same depth of commitment and affection” [28]. Indeed, two music enthusiasts (say, one involved in jazz, the other in choral) “can relate much more effectively to each other than with the musical amateur who cannot read music” [29]. One’s discovery of the common “inner dimensions” within different faith-traditions, is greatly facilitated when one first fathoms the profundity of one’s own one. Nursi and Lonergan are deeply in love with their traditions and yet contemplate, through the inner mystical dimensions of their traditions, the beauty of other ways. Even if the “inner dimensions” of the two religions are remarkably transparent and transcultural, there should be some place that can determine the legitimacy (or lack thereof) of insights emerging from one’s encounter with the Other. There is an inward spirit behind any outward form; in order to penetrate to the spirit, however, one first needs the form. One can argue that it is this aspect of both thinkers’ ideas that makes them so appealing to their respective religious milieus today. If Ian Markham says that Nursi’s “Qur’anic” approach could, in principle, be “affirmed by any traditional Muslim,”[30] arguably the same statement can be made about Lonergan, too: his “inner word” can be seen as nothing but a harmonious development of the current position of Catholic church regarding the “seeds of the Word” present and active in different religions.

References

1. Mahmoud Masaeli and Rico Sneller, “Introduction,” in Responses of Mysticism to Religious Terrorism: Sufism and Beyond, ed. Mahmoud Masaeli & Rico Sneller (Oud-Turnhout: Gompel&Svacina, 2020), 8.
2. Thomas Michel, “Muslim-Christian Dialogue and Cooperation in the Thought of Bediuzzaman Said Nursi,” in Said Nursi’s Views on Muslim-Christian Understanding, ed. Shukran Vahide (Istanbul: Soz Basim Yayin, 2005), 36.
3. Thomas Michel, “Dialogue of Ideas between the Thought of Pope John Paul II and the Risale-I Nur,” in Globalization, Ethics, and Islam, ed. Ian Markham and Ibrahim Ozdemir, (London and New York: Routledge, 2005), 44.
4. Gerard Whelan, “The Continuing Significance of Bernard Lonergan,” Thinking Faith, https://www.thinkingfaith.org/articles/20080923_1.htm (accessed August 24, 2021).
5. Ian Markham, An Introduction to Said Nursi: Life, Thought and Writings (Farnham, Surrey: Ashgate, 2011), 18.
6. Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, Sualar [Rays], (Istanbul: Soz Basim Yayin, 2003), 200.
7. Said Nursi, Signs of Miraculousness (Istanbul: Sozler Publications, 2004), 72, in Colin Turner, The Qur’an Revealed: A Critical Analysis of Said Nursi’s Epistles of Light (Berlin: GerlachPress, 2013), 91.
8. Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, The Words: On the Nature and Purposes of Man, Life, and All Things, trans. Sukran Vahide (Istanbul: Sozler Publications, 2008), 655.
9. Nursi, Words, 80.
10. Nursi, Words, 367.
11. Farid al-Ansari, Miftāḥ al-Nūr fī Mafāhīm Rasā’il al-Nūr (Miknas: Jami‘at al-Sulṭān al-Mawlā Ismā‘īl, Kindle Edition), 117-118.
12. Al-Ansari, Miftāḥ, 115.
13. Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, Al-Mathnawi Al-Nuri: Seedbed of the Light, trans. Huseyin Akarsu (New Jercey: Light, 2007), 376.
14. Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology, ed. Robert M. Doran and John D. Dadosky (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2017), 101-2.
15. John Dadosky, The Structure of Religious Knowing: Encountering the Sacred in Eliade and Lonergan (New York: State University of New York Press, 2004), 35, 38.
16. Bernard Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1992, 214-5, 242-253.
17. Lonergan, 2017, 105.
18. Dadosky, 2004, 30.
19. Joseph Flanagan, “Lonergan’s New Context for Theology,” Revista Portuguesa de Filosofia 63, (2007), 211 (193-215).
20. Dadosky, 2004, 32.
21. Ibid.
22. William Johnston, The Inner Eye of Love (New York: Harper and Row Publishers, Inc., 1978), 65, in Nancy C. Ring, Doctrine within the Dialectic of Subjectivity and Objectivity: A Critical Study of the Positions of Paul Tillich and Bernard Lonergan, (San Francisco: Mellen Research University Press, 1991), 145-6. Dadosky, 144.
23. Ring, 1991, 147.
24. Lonergan, 2017, 261.
25. Markham, “Secular or Religious Foundations,” in Globalization, Ethics, and Islam, ed. Ian Markham and Ibrahim Ozdemir, (London and New York: Routledge, 2005), 72.
26. Patrice C. Brodeur, “The Ethics of Dediuzzaman Said Nursi’s Dialogue with the West in Light of His Concept of ‘Europe,’” in Globalization, Ethics, and Islam, 89.
27. John Paul II, “General Audience,” Vatican.Va, Wednesday 14 April 1999, accessed Dec. 9, 2021, https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/audiences/1999/documents/hf_jp-ii_aud_14041999.html
28. Markham, Ian. Engaging with Bediuzzaman Said Nursi. New York: Routledge, 2016. p. 138.
29. Ibid.
30. Ibid. p. 63.