Those who devote themselves to philanthropy should clamp tight to this holy creed and glorious ideal of service. They should develop projects for today and tomorrow; and most importantly they should writhe in the worry of communicating it to the rudest, toughest, most stubborn, most intolerant, and most unfaithful of people… Yes, it is this agony that will lead us to the climate of tolerance, and rise up to benignity, then from there to forgiveness, then from there to mercy, and finally to the most prosperous horizon of guidance, in terms of assisting others to eternal bliss.

Those who pioneered in good work in the past have accomplished their mission and have gone, resigning the trust to our generation expecting us to be the architects and thought-laborers of today. Following on, the generations succeeding us will take over the trust and carry it to a higher level. All these shall be realized as a favor of God Almighty bestowed upon our common inclination and the profoundness of our inner world.

On this issue, that we, by any chance, fall in any kind of worldly expectations and base our attitudes on that expectation is nothing else but insincerity. Thoughts like “I am doing all these by myself, I am achieving all those by myself,” and the expectations—no matter how minor—that pass through our minds for a moment, will destroy a side of the construction we are trying to erect and will harm our philanthropical work. Moreover, those expectations can gash into our souls in the course of time, and lead us to egoism and arrogance.

As a result of some of the good work we have done, some people may bear good opinion of us and offer us some positions. I think that no single person who has devoted himself to the good of others should fancy for or prioritize personal gains. Such a fanciful thought is a step in the wrong direction, and if not repented for promptly will be followed by further wrong steps to become a standing mentality. Then, a day may come when that person’s world would come crumbling down on them and s/he will lose everything.

An eminent thinker of our age and a hero of sincerity, Bediuzzaman Said Nursi was extraordinarily sensitive in this regard, and he pointed to the fragility of the issue under discussion through statements such as “without my free-will, I’ve been made to read certain books,” “I’ve been pushed to abandon books,” “in full unawareness, I’ve been guided to the word of God,” “I’ve been made to serve my faith fully out of my cognition.” To be a private, ordinary soldier, is something like gold dust for us. And best of all, as a private, we should wait in front of the door of God and should not conceive of any kind of expectations. Yes, it is true that a soldier is sometimes made to perform the task of a colonel; but this is something merely in the discretion of God and we have no say in this decision. Indeed, does Bediuzzaman not express the same concern? “My self is lower than all else, the mission is higher than all,” “you are to see yourself as the notorious sinner,” “do not suppose that you deserve the honor of all these beauties. As you do not represent them in full, you may only be a zone of reflection.” Ripples on the water reflect the image of the sun. What could they reflect if the sun did not exist? Therefore, all the beauties belong to the Beauty of Beauties. Yes, these considerations are of utmost significance. The greater the tasks God Almighty makes us perform, the more our modesty should increase and the further we should stand clear of expectations and claims. To remain in welfare both in this world and the Hereafter, indeed, depends on the soundness of heart:

Never suppose, the holy one, they will ask for gold or silver,
On the judgment day, they will call but of a sound heart.

Yes, this truth must penetrate deep into our souls. As ordinary as we are, we should not bear expectations exceeding ourselves, whether it is in the name of ourselves or the community we are in. We need to focus on giving our last breath with these thoughts.

In earlier times, our houses, roads, and neighborhoods were all neat, nice and warm. Our pleasures and enjoyments, our understanding of aesthetics, our perception of the arts were each a reflection of our spirit and of the profundity of our world of thought. Our homes were a place of rest and relief in the soft and smooth bosom of nature. Our neighborhoods were each a display and a stage where our world of thought and philosophy of life were exhibited and staged. Our roads that were crowded with mosques, Sufi lodges, schools, and other educational institutions and that made us think, feel, and emotionally inspired as if they were corridors opened to the metaphysical realms were the quintessence of liveliness and exquisiteness, getting us to a journey to a world of fancy evoking more charms and delights than that which is real-a journey imbuing our hearts with the most romantic feelings. Such was our places that we have gotten to know and possessed the experience through those still in existence; and we have seized up those that ceased to exist through the lens of the remains of those yet left.

Once we could constantly feel the mother nature extremely close to us physically and emotionally as if we were held and fondled lovingly in our mother’s bosom; we would never had the feeling of being away from the beauties but would make ourselves acquainted with the manifestations of the Most Beautiful of the Beautiful at different wavelengths at every single day. We would open our windows and doors whenever we wished and let those bountiful Divine beauties becoming manifest all over the place flow even into our bedrooms. We would turn our cottages, houses, villas, and mansions into a nice, charming spot in the universe in proportion to their caliber and could live the joyest of pleasures and the highest of excitements in such a miniature place of bliss. Again whenever we wished we would turn from our dwellings towards our surroundings, fill our ears with multifarious tunes and melodies resonating in the bosom of the entire existence and entertain our hearts with the most pleasing of the musical sounds.

Those days, we would imbibe-as if drinking in sips or taking breaths-all the beauties of our gardens and orchards that were more beautiful than the ornate tails of peacocks and more flamboyant than the wings of butterflies; we would live unquenchable joys and pleasures while taking a glance at the vicinities evoking in our minds the spectacular views of heavenly panoramas.

Just like our homes, our streets, neighborhoods and even towns and cities-with all parts and in all aspects, were like a special spot in the heart, a perspective of our sentiments, and an image of our thoughts reflected in various shapes. We would scent out and find in them the inclinations of our souls, their connectedness with our aspirations and all the immensity and profundity of the features making up our identity. No matter whether worn-out or well-kept, colorful or faded, our homes and streets were like living beings whispering constantly the lyrics of an immense message of the past.

All those buildings and residential areas with their cultivated, delicate, elegant, and oriental characteristics-exactly similar to the polite and courteous people dwelling in those houses, walking through those streets, and residing in those neighborhoods, were somewhat romantic, and more than that they looked like the corridors of heavenly pavilions and the shades of heavenly sceneries.

Some houses from among them were so exuberant and dynamic just like an establishment dedicated to worshipping or educating people. Looking from this perspective, they looked as if one could see the pure companions of Paradise in them. As every soul and sound in them spur mysterious inspirations-like a bud putting out new shoots, we would be filled with amazement and feel ourselves face-to-face with the most invisible and the most unknown of the lights, patterns, shades and hues.

Some of those houses would plant themselves in front of us as if they were petrified records of history and relate many, many stories to us through the fading and rusts here and there, through their calcified façades and their ages old artistic styles, and through the signs of wear and tear formed on their walls as a result of the happenings in the course of time.

As soon as some of those houses came into our view with a stance and style of their own-resembling our virtuous mothers with their loose outer garments evoking chastity and respect in us, they would make a way into us with seriousness, dignity and awe, and would blow self-control and possession into our spirits.

Still some other houses would look like a sign and symbol indicative of the beauty, profundity, grace, elegance, and mellowness of their indwellers through their pleasant colors of rosy pink, orange red, deep chestnut, violet, and lavender blue.

The expanse of our faith, the utmost end of our hopes, and the expectations of the furthest kind would come just before our eyes whenever we saw those houses reflecting the meaning, essence, tint, and style of a shared belief, a shared culture and a shared civilization with the heavenly profundity. The elegance, artistic style and beauty of those houses were so profound and so harmonious with the book of nature that the blueness of the azure sky and the gorgeous patterns of the earth were in close association with most of those houses, and as such one would think of each and every one of these houses as a cradle swaying between the lights, colors, and patterns of the earth and the skies. While one looks around or contemplates right before them, they would feel themselves up in the skies according to the immensity of their imagination and would be mesmerized as if they were the children of incredible bounties.

It was this good taste and pleasure in our landscaping, architecture, and city planning evoking in mind and spirit the feeling of connectedness between the earth and the skies-the feeling that aroused in such people as Pierre Loti (1850–1923) to have their last sleep in the shade of our sycamore maples that are as peaceful as the gardens of Paradise.

Those who lived in our houses and neighborhoods would feel the melodies in all tones, see the flowers blooming in all shades of color in our gardens and woods almost all the time, and experience the joyest of pleasures at the face of the dazzling harmony of the entire existence. Through their openings-one to the skies and the other to the earth, these houses and mansions would make one able to behold such an immense size greater than a hundredfold of their vastness of size and would become a door to the infinitude beyond their spatial largeness.

It was like a fairyland enchanting everyone with those houses in our towns marked with congruence and harmony with one another and those in our villages with their beauties at different wavelengths-with all these houses that provided relief and gave pleasure to the senses; with our roads long drawn out in loops; with our spacious mansions and palaces holding their heads high, honest and blameless as if they personified in concrete form the independence of an efficacious heart in the highest degree. It was such an enchanting land with our houses of prayer as the very heart of this entire harmony; with the minarets at one corner of these places of worship-just like an emphatic interjection in a discourse-proclaiming the greatest truth several times a day; with little domes that are gathered around the essence hidden in the spirit and meaning both the minaret and the mosque communicate; and with a compact group of religious schools, healthcare facilities, hostels and soup kitchens that are like a group of hatches taking refuge in and walking around a sitter. It was such a captivating land with the gardens, woods, swinging cypresses, breezes blowing with fragrant smells, free-standing fountains, drinking fountains, and bowers all over the place that were designed with a unique taste, some of whom were in peace and watchful and some in loud clamor-all of them were in a race to convey a message to us.

People in those days would rush from cities to the country for a change of air and seek for the pleasure of cheerfulness and joy, peace and serenity, and privacy and seclusion, or they move from villages to cities which were not too noisy at the time, experience the elevation, solemnity and seriousness of urban life, and would become accustomed to more systematic and broadminded urban ways. With the belief that they attained more profundity in both thoughts and feelings in cities, they would keep moving there and back.

Alongside the general outlook of the urban and rural life with a shared intellectual and cultural attitude, one could notice the diversity within society that is worthy of mentioning. Every single village, town, or city was kind of reflecting the same matter in a distinct way and expressing, so to speak, a metaphor in a poetic manner in different ways of versification. To a certain degree, each and every single one of them revealed a different style in attitude, composition, and evocative qualities. Each one of them was a miniature of the entire world reminiscent of a feast and festivity in a state of exhilaration, warmth and fervent ecstasy-a miniature formed and built up through hard work and physical and intellectual efforts lasting for ages, attaining a profound aesthetic beauty, and dazzling with their animate and inanimate accessories improving them.

Metropolises were, so to speak, a concord of fineness and beauty in every way through the strenuous efforts of the grand architects and the landscapers with thriving aesthetic tastes. The beauties of our orchards and gardens impressing our hearts like a poem; the stretching of our plains and meadows in joy; the monumental stance of our hills and mountains; the gentle murmuring of our drinking fountains and rivulets into the hearts; the graceful tulips everywhere dimpling up to us as if smiling; the rubicund cheeked roses with diffusing fragrance that we know fairly well for ages; our sweet scented carnations and pinks that are sharp and biting to the taste as if saying, “there is no rose without thorns”; the pleasant daisies that are so common in our lands and thus suffer our aloofness and disregard; the small violets that are so beautiful and yet so low at the soil level as if they are the symbol of unpretentiousness and meekness; the lilies that are so choosy and unwilling to become familiar; the tender, delicate magnolias which are as sensitive as our hearts; the hyacinths as our next door neighbor and relative; and the camellias and orchids that we become familiar later on-all these beauties with a smell reminiscent of elegiac tunes and the colors bringing to mind the eternal beauties would inflame the hearts that were amorous with eternity and would constantly remind us of the realm to be sought. When the chirping of the birds, the humming of insects, the bleating of the sheep, and the breathings of those who love each other for the sake of God were added upon all these beauties, everywhere would become thoroughly imbued with the heavenly shades and hues. Everywhere was vivacious, warm, and joyous like the Garden of Eden and menagerie at such a blessed period of time when nature was preserved and forests were protected.

In such a world time used to pass so much differently that a few hours spent there would turn out to be so copious and fruitful; it would become perpetual, never passing out of our mind.

I do not know if we could unearth and breathe life into these memories we have witnessed and experienced or those we have been told and have still kept in remembrance; however, I will always miss the “Paradise Lost” with its gardens, orchards, gardeners, and everything within it.

No other place is blessed with the same charm of day turning into night, nor does it have a matching mystery. Seasons in other places are not as mild nor is nature as vivid and lenient as it is in this world. However, in the most fabulous corners of the earth there are times when daylight is blocked out, when the stars at night are drowned in darkness, and the days are obscured and monotonous. Yet, for those who can perceive and carry on their lives, following the path of the heart and spirit, nothing in our world loses its pleasure, nor do its attractions diminish. On the contrary, the springs in our world always cheer us with new life, the summers gently descend on the horizons of tenderness, autumn glimmer through the routine, reminding us of extinction followed by resurrection, winters elate our feelings of love and longing and inspire our spirits with new birth; thus, we are able to attain what our nature passionately seeks.

With the eye of the heart one can see that the arrivals and departures, the changes and transformations, the diversification and deformation in this land all have meanings that are different from those in other places. Life here exhibits eternal visions that are as expansive as a waterfall; flowing like a river that is fast and deep, racing along a sinuous course to reach its source. As the river bed narrows, it flows even faster and surmounts many seemingly impossible obstacles. It flows foaming downstream along its own path, as pure as the day it first gushed forth from the source, perhaps even purer. It spreads life along every mile for those who have the capacity, and runs to reunion like a lover separated from the loved one. And with reunion comes eternal serenity. This is the color, texture, and accent of life in our hearts, but it is not possible for those who do not empathize with us to comprehend this; they cannot appreciate the roots that make us who we are, nor can they perceive what we feel or think, or our ideals or objectives.

As a matter of fact, it is a privilege and joy to be born into and raised in this world, to be able to perceive its spirit and meaning which are rooted deep in the past. However, awareness of this privilege and bliss is only possible when our rich heritage, the spirit and meaning of this world, is duly appreciated and admired, as Majnun loved Layla. Love and yearning are commonly interpreted as ember or wood which easily flare up at the sight of good looks, a fine posture, and presence; this interpretation is correct, but not complete. The greatest love always blooms in direct relation to the refinement of the soul, as well as to the sensitivity and profundity of perception. Unrefined and insensitive souls may display some inclinations, but they can never truly love. Those with feelings that have been dulled can never be loyal, even if they incessantly speak of love. Loving something depends on knowing it well. Beauty may stir temporary interest, but if knowledge about the inner aspects is lacking, then there are no means for an everlasting connection. Such interest may generate passing fervor, but it cannot transform into a sparkle of love.

Those who do not know God have never been able to love Him; indeed, they cannot. Those who are not informed of the Prophet cannot show him due respect; indeed, they can not. And those who consider our lands to be mere geographical territory cannot be aware of the love for one’s homeland; this is not possible. Any territory is valuable according to the amount of riches found on the surface and underground. Likewise, a country rises upon its unique essence and values that have been inherited from the past; it is only in relation to these values that a country can be enthroned in the heart of the people. It becomes “my land” for those who love it as such, who shiver with the fever of longing.

Every one, no doubt, can feel a strong sense of belonging to the places they were born, from where they breathed and drank water, places with which they are more familiar, even if it were a desert. Yet, our love and desire for “our world” is not related to its being where we were born per se. We are bound to our homeland with a deeper connection and fascination-when we are home, it becomes as warm as our mothers’ embrace; when we are away, we think of it with a longing for the inner riches, the unique tastes and styles, and the magical expanses. Those with an unfamiliar perspective, who cannot discern its deeper qualities – in other words, those who have not been nourished from the same spring or nursed from the same breast – are unable to grasp the wonder; indeed, they never can.

Regardless of the feelings of others about our “world,” this land of wonders offers beauties of all kinds to us; these are unattainable elsewhere, even in the most beautiful corners of the earth. We feel inundated by the affluence we possess, enchanted by the charm of our accent and in this land we witness so many deeper dimensions that go beyond the material veils of our simple daily chores. When surrounded with traces, signs, and symptoms that connote these for us, we then become more connected to the present day; we get a deeper sense of our expectations for the future, of our life philosophy and of our past merits.

Facing an architectural pattern that is designed in the taste and perceptions of the past, or a decoration that reflects our conception of belief and thought, sentiments and esthetics, or when we set sail to the mysterious realm of the places of worship, schools, retreat centers, inns, baths, or caravanserais of this land, each of which is an ineradicable signpost of a noble history, we feel showered with the spirit and meaning of our past as our horizons spread out even farther. Then we are overjoyed beyond our expectations; our spiritual faculties and imagination are set free of time-bound considerations. We reach a point of consciousness in which heavenly words and voices can be heard in a harmonious blend with ordinary sounds. We find ourselves in the middle of a fantastic world which seems to have been constructed from a mixture of yesterday, today, and tomorrow-yet which does not fit into any of these time frames, while carrying traits from each. This is followed by a transformation of every object, every color, pattern, and accent in this world into something new: the sun, which was thought to have set, starts to rise in our skies, the moon and stars roam above our heads as if on a celestial tour, and everywhere glows with a cascade of smiles pouring over us. Then the spell of a darkness that has lasted for decades is broken and the shadows are defeated one after another by the guards of the light. The spring cries out, exhibiting all its beauties. Fountains that were thought to have dried up start running in abundance; clouds bow down to embrace the ground and converse with pastures and trees; rain strokes everywhere that has withered with mercy; the winds embrace us with a sweet breeze, as if celebrating a feast. In the present, but through the projection of the days of light from the past and those that are eagerly awaited in the future, mountains, rocks, singing birds all treat us with the best of sights and sounds, performing a fascinating music without lyric or composition, a tune of the spirit and meaning that does not belong to any one time, but indeed are the essence of all times.

Each time I think of this blessed land with thoughts filled with faith and hope, I say “here is a mystical country without borders, transcendent with a distinctive spiritual essence and an intrinsic beauty.” I consider myself fortunate if I am there; if I am away, I weep with yearning and to comfort myself, I rush to the apertures of my imagination to picture it in my mind. For me, it is always more beautiful than any other place. Its beauties have always remained unique, without any change, even when it was invaded with filth that tarnished the entire globe. It has always been a place that is desired.

Nothing has stained its spiritual potential and no dirt has been able to blur its inner purity. There were times when resentment, hatred, and sectarian fights festered everywhere; democracy was crippled, free thought was slaughtered, belief, Islam, and the Qur’an conceded against the most ferocious onslaughts and the winds of fall destroyed the gardens, the crops, and discolored the flowers and the roses mourned and wept tears of blood. Young saplings broke, giant cypress trees collapsed, and leaves were scattered around. Nevertheless, this “world” has always remained colorful with its inner treasures, spiritual pattern, and power of spiritual dynamics. It has always smiled gently on its own children, comforting their cries with joyful treats, softening the painful and harsh storms of reality with its magical hope-inspiring essence, and even in the most hellish conditions, cooled down the heat of those who took shelter in it with a peaceful “bard al-salam.”1

Hostility, rancor, discord, hatred and other foreign notions that originate from unbelief and which have sought to penetrate this land, have never been able to take up permanent residence, nor have conflicts and discord attained their objectives. Rancor and hatred have been defeated by love and leniency; envy and obsession have devoured and consumed themselves; and the unfortunate ones who have made the existence and continuation of such things dependent on these notions have never attained glory. The filth and the soiled ones have been rebuffed and dispersed, and only true humans and human values have remained in this land.

Yet sometimes perhaps all of us have been troubled by some unexpected events; we wish that they never happened, and bemoan the heartless and senseless acts of the people of this land, a land which is acquiescent to the heart and spirit, despite its rich historical heritage. Thankfully, such thoughts and the situation that lay behind them did not last for long; when the time came, everything reverted to its former shape; the heart was set in motion, the spirit made itself heard, the callous mood was replaced with sensitivity, and everything reclaimed its essential nature. Excluding the temporal fog that darkened the horizons, this land is indeed in possession of the treasures of pleasure, taste, and beauty from all times. We breathe in the spring in the mornings; we enjoy the colorful sceneries of the summer during the day, and at sunset we are filled with the pleasant sorrow of the fall. Days and nights, and the seasons that change reluctantly are so fresh, elegant, and soft that familiar hearts rise every morning as if invited to “resurrection,” waking up to a new day with the call for prayer and glorifications, finding themselves on a highway that leads to the heavens.

As it appears to our senses, everything in this world is seen as if through rose-colored glasses, through a mysterious veil that we cannot always perceive. The spiritual texture of this world which never fades, the pristine hearts of the people, the majority of the people being able to remain firm, with their behavior leaving indelible impressions; its marketplaces that feature noble characteristics inherited from the past; its porticos and fountains that have an impressive stance; the everlasting warmth in the sanctuaries of the places of worship; the glorifying of the Almighty by the believer singing “Hu, Hu” in chorus, accompanied by the bird song that soars up to the domes as well as into our hearts… it is not possible to witness these and many other magical scenes occurring in such a perfect way in other places. Nevertheless, not everyone is blessed with this testimony. Their inability to perceive is perhaps not a divine test or retribution upon them, but there is no doubt that it indicates a deprivation that has fallen to their share. It is most likely that these unfortunate ones were exposed to winds that blew a bit cold, or were hit by the autumn that passed a bit harshly, or were caught in an unseasonable hail, sleet or storm, and this is why they see this paradisiacal place as having the unpleasant face displayed by momentary events.

Nevertheless, such things do not last forever; they might cast our horizon in darkness for a time, but after a while they disappear, handing this world over to the brightest beauties that are inherently found there. Everywhere blossoms with its natural charm, and a peaceful spiritual expansion is felt throughout the land. Then the fog disperses and the sky is filled with the cotton-white clouds of the spring. Even if it does not rain, dew drops wash away the dust on the leaves. The dawn is followed by the sunrise, and the bright days that are celebrated in our hearts glow from a distance as every town and street, village and city assumes a spiritual transformation. This world becomes a corridor to what is beyond. As perceptions intensify, the elegance, mercy, and the poem that this storm of feelings pours into us pass beyond the upper limits of our comprehension. The gaps between our desires–dreams and the realities are filled and life becomes the way we would like to live it. Our horizons of thought are imbued with the colors of the heavenly slopes. Our disheartened feelings, our withered and cracked hearts, and our spirits, which are bent double and look like discolored flowers, pull themselves together as if the Trumpet (Sur) is heard. Then, everything and every one changes position and shouts out cheers of revival.

While some “homeless” ones suffer from a longing, although they are in their homeland, I have always kept myself occupied enjoying the beauties of my country that well up through the windows of my heart; my readings of this land have always been different from theirs. Even in our days in which hope has lost ground against the darkest thoughts, I can still hear a superb internal tune, singing the secrets from the deepest dimensions of my soul and my belief. I strive to keep my soul bound to hope and faith and as I visualize my glorious past with sweet memories, I also keep my eyes fixed on future days of splendor, days which I do not doubt will come. I try to simultaneously feel the charming colors, the glaring lights from both wings of time. Despite the suffocating grip of the present, I feel that I am strolling across a field that is more spacious than anywhere else. I leave all that is unpleasant today to be interpreted in time and submit these to the considerations of illuminated generations, for those for whom we have high hopes. In the meantime, I find myself between the light, shade, and breezes of my belief, hope, and good will. A future time of happiness caresses my sensations, even though the windows opened by my faith in God and certainty in belief do not yet yield a crystal clear view. I now witness a crude notion of darkness, which has tarnished the face of the earth in our recent past; I hear the groaning throes of agony on the deathbed on which our soul was sacrificed to our ruthlessness; I hear the requiems that are sung, for they resonate deep within, like history’s hymns of revival.

NoteSee the Qur’an 21:69, “O fire,” We ordered, “Be cool and peaceful for Abraham!”

A believer takes all the divine blessings he or she is honored with as an expression of God’s infinite Mercy. Our merits, gifts, and the favors granted to us are all roses from His divine garden. When we ponder upon them, we begin to grasp that we derive not from ourselves, but from His divine presence. He is the real actor behind all that we do. Ignoring this fact should be viewed as daring to claim partnership with Him. Consider the verses, “It is God who has created you and all that you do”;1 and “You cannot will unless God wills.”2 Consider the verses next to the hadith “Whatever God wishes, happens, and whatever God wishes not to happen, does not.”3 People shaped by these criteria do not consider many blessings granted by God to be products of their own achievements; they do not take personal pride in those things they have done.

Favors from God are not supposed to lead us to pride, boasting, or arrogance, but rather, to thanksgiving, praise, and reliance in God. One can feel in his or her conscience that serving in the way of God is a divine favor not only for those who serve, but also for those whom the divine message is conveyed.

At this point, I would like to relate one of my memories. Once I happened to visit Australia and I saw that some of our people who shared the same thoughts and feelings had planned to open up a dormitory and invited some statesmen to the opening. They requested me to make a speech. Although uncomfortable, I had to make a short speech at the podium. After I finished, they introduced me to these statesmen. At that moment, I felt a bit dizzy, and then I felt sorry for them. I spoke to myself, “O Lord, I wish people showed interest in them, not in me, so that I did not see them feel alienated like that. I wish they did not feel that this dorm did not belong to them. I wish I was in their shoes, and that they were in mine.” I bent twofold with the feeling. Although we have some ambitions as a natural outcome of human nature, I wish all believers had such thoughts and feelings. So, stop feeling contempt for others, believers should see others as better and more virtuous than themselves.

In addition, apparent success at serving in the way of God is not the only indication of being virtuous in God’s sight. Sometimes, being a means to guide a single person to truth can be as good as guiding thousands, or as charitable as establishing thousands of institutions. In the words of Said Nursi “A few good deeds done for the sincere sake of God is preferable to numerous insincere deeds.”4 In this respect, others may seem to have failed in outward appearance, but in terms of the inner dimension, it is possible that their position could be far better. In this respect, we must definitely see others as better than ourselves, know them as better, and applaud everybody’s deeds for the sake of God.

On the other hand, a believer’s understanding to serve in the way of God does not let him take pride in himself. The great scholar Nursi never claimed that his genius was a product of personal insight: “Do not say: ‘I am an object of Divine manifestations. One who receives and reflects Divine beauty becomes beautiful.’ That beauty has not assumed a perpetual form in you, and so you may reflect it for only a short time…”5 So all the beauties manifested in us completely belong to the Creator, the source of all beauties. Again, he presents a different perspective on the matter by saying: “O my arrogant carnal soul. Do not be proud of your services to God’s religion. As stated in a Prophetic Tradition, God may strengthen this religion by means of a dissolute person. You are not pure, so regard yourself as that dissolute person.”6 If great figures such as Said Nursi, people whom God enabled to be of great service, see themselves as humble in their endeavors, then how can we illustrate pride in ours? I leave it to your considerations. We had better say:

This is not what becomes to a slave like me,
Why have I been granted so generously?
(M. Lutfi Effendi of Alvar)

For people of discernment, talking about “us” is the least degree of associating partners with God; and saying “He” expresses refraining from it. When we go to bed, get up, sit down, think, open or close our eyes…in other words, in every moment of our life we should keep saying “He,” and at every instant we should keep up the awareness that everything and everyone comes from Him.

Notes

1. Saffat 37:96
2. Insan 76:30
3. Abu Dawud, Adab, 100.
4. Nursi, Said. The Flashes Collection, 17th Flash, 13th note of the 3rd matter.
5. Nursi, Said. The Words, 18th Word, First point.
6. ibid, 26th Word, the fourth topic’s conclusion.

“Welcome travelers! You may enter the king’s palace, and you may benefit from everything for free. When your time is due the king is going to take you to a better palace where you can stay forever. Respect the rules of the palace, and each other. Thank the king who provides everything to you, who built this palace just for you. The beauties of the palace are just samples, not the real bounties. Do not let them make you forget the owner of the palace, and the short time you have.” The King.

Then we entered the palace. There were servants, who welcomed us. We were all amazed by the palace, and its beauties. The servants took us to the bath. They cleaned us with rose-scented soaps, and jasmine oil. They brought us clean white cashmere clothes.

After we were all clean, the servants took us to a feast. They showed us our seats. The table was full of different kinds of food and fruits. We were starving; had not eaten for days. We started to eat. They were all delicious. After dinner, they took us to small houses. Inside the house every thing was made of silk, even the curtains. Outside, there were all kinds of trees, waterfalls, birds, fountains; even the sun was shining differently. I forgot that we were in the middle of a desert.

Days were passing very fast. Actually, it was a palace designed to serve us. When we were altogether, one of us stood up and said, “There cannot be a better place than this. I think this is the place where we should stay.” Most of us agreed with him, but I stood up, and said; “ But my friend, do not forget what we read on the gate, there is a king who owns the palace, and we all have a short time to stay here, and he offers us a better place if we act according to his will.” He replied, “I don’t think there is a king. Maybe there was, but he is not here any more. They wrote it when he was here, but he left the palace, so we are its owners.” Most of the people agreed with him, and said; “Yeah, we are the owners!” By this time, we were divided into basically three groups. One who claimed that they were the owners of the palace, and believed that they would stay forever in it. Second, the biggest group, who believed that there was a king, but they did not care about him. They were just so into the beauties of the palace, and they were drunk most of the time. Third, me, and some of my friends, the smallest of the groups, believed that there was a king, and we had a short time in the palace. Everything we had was a sample of the real bounties of the king in the better place where he was going to take us.

The first group, who claimed that they were the owners of the palace, started to treat the servants badly and violate all the rules. The second group also let them do whatever they wanted; they did not care about what was going on. The travelers in the caravan turned the palace into a hell.

With these thoughts on my mind I was looking at the books of old times. They were mostly history books, which were about the people who lived in this palace before us. I took a book, written three centuries ago; its name was Age of Rose. I turned the pages slowly; it was talking about an unbelievable period of time which lasted almost a thousand years in this same palace. There were people who lived a wonderful life in peace and joy. They were also righteous and thankful to the king. So, not all times have been like mine in this palace. Unfortunately, I came here in a wrong time, but as they say; there is for sure a reason for everything happening. The book was also mentioning about the outside of the palace, where people lived happily forever. Reading this chronicle I was comforted with an expectation promising an eternal glorious life.

I have not lost my hope for the future of this palace. I am striving hard with my friends to remind others of the King’s message, so that they become conscious about the purposes and wisdom behind their transient presence here. I am praying that the All-Merciful King will guide us to His Path and we all enter His Abode happily. 

Eternal life comes after death and death follows this life, just as day replaces night, spring follows winter, and autumn takes the place of summer. The Creator, Who governs everything and creates the most beautiful and intricate beings out of the basest, seemingly futile materials, does nothing in vain.

In order for us to enjoy the eternal life, therefore, first we must go through death. It is not an annihilation or a total extinction into a void, rather it is a transformation, a change of place, state, and dimension.

Considering the obligations one has to carry and the burdens that must be endured over the course of one’s life, death is the completion of a mission and a release from all of life’s burdens, too. It discharges us from the hardships of worldly life, which become more difficult to endure with the onset of old age and illnesses.

Remembering where we all came from, death is no more than a return to our own essence and truth. It is, therefore, a place to meet our friends who preceded us in the journey to the place where most of our friends have already gone. There, we will enjoy the company of our loved ones forever.

In view of all of these and the fact that death is the beginning of a new life in which we are no longer mortal, death is as desirable as life itself.

Despite all these positive qualities of death, those who cannot grasp its meaning thoroughly always see death as a horrifying event and compose melancholic odes to it. To those who can only see its horrifying superficial meaning, death is the executioner, a bottomless pit, and a dark passage into the void.

It is true that death affects our minds and touches those feelings in us that make us human, since it is a separation from life and the living. It is impossible to deny such an influence or to silence the heart in the face of death. It arouses a massive turmoil in our hearts and minds, but belief in resurrection causes all such sorrows to be forgotten; this is the promise of a kingdom to someone who has lost everything, or an assurance that one is about to be handed eternal life and happiness.

When believers begin to experience death, the beauties and the rewards of Heaven appear before them. Since they consider death as a release from life’s burdens and hardships and they know that everything continues to exist in other realms in a different form and identity, they view death as an advancement and acquisition of a higher essence and nature.

Because every process of advancement and perfection must pass through certain stages, spiritual progress and the subsequent advancement to higher levels also can only come through trials and purifications. For example, crude ores must perish in the purifying furnace before they yield pure metal. Oxygen and hydrogen atoms must die in their separate identities to be reborn as water, a substance vital for life. Every particle that appears to be moving eagerly toward its own apparent extinction is actually running toward the perfection prescribed for it.

All these analogies allude to the fact that while death appears to be an end, a passing into extinction, in reality it is a passing into a higher mode of being.

Each creature in this life presents itself in a unique parade before the presence of the One Who gave it existence. Each being acts out its role and shows its skills. In this respect, death is the time for a being to resign and give over to its successors. As the parade ends for one being it starts for another; this keeps the parade ground from being monotonous and refreshes the scene with new beings. The freshness, liveliness, and the diversity seen in creation are the results of these comings and goings; these should not be seen as being merely a utilitarian way to make room for new generations.

Another aspect of death is that it teaches us silently that nothing is self-existent or has permanence. It constantly reminds us not to long for ephemeral pleasures and to focus on the path that will take us to eternal happiness. Whatever or whoever ensnares our hearts will leave us one day. This causes us to yearn for an eternal being to love and to be loved by. Such a yearning is the first stage of moving toward eternity, and death initiates this desire in our hearts.

The best way of appreciating the existence and value of many things is to think frequently of them as being otherwise, i.e. to think about their non-existence. If we ask ourselves what would have happened if there was no death for the living in this life, then the numerous answers that come to mind justify the necessity of the existence of death.

If there was no death for the living, then the insect populations, populations that multiply faster than many other species, would have covered the earth by now, and it would be extremely difficult and frightening for human beings to find their way through this flood of creatures. It would be extremely difficult to see, in many parts of the world, the fascinating beauties of the earth through the enormous ivy plants that would surround us. Even such simple examples suffice to help us see what a great blessing death is and a great wisdom there is in allowing dead things to decompose.

In conclusion, death is one of the essential elements for sustaining the marvelous harmony and orderliness that prevail on the Earth. Our fear of death comes from our desire for eternity, but death is the very passage to the realms of eternal beauties. Life is but a glimpse of a long journey that has not even yet begun!

This ‘book’ or exhibition was once much more dazzling; like a magnificent vessel sailing in the ocean of love and ecstasy or a chandelier with one thousand and one lights, it was beautiful beyond imagination. With its emerald hills and slopes and exhilarating valleys and plains, with its forests inhabited by thousands of kinds of cheerful animals and paradise-like gardens, fields and orchards, and with its singing birds and merry-making insects, this ‘book’ was the realm neighboring the other world. Divine mercy poured onto it in the form of rain to make the earth more fertile and, in return, hands were held open towards it in profound gratitude.

Those who sensed nature in that manner could not help but establish a deep heartfelt relation with the sound, melody, taste, smell and beauties which issued from it by the Hand of Power. For they were so intimate and familiar with it that whenever they gazed on it, they felt different things pertaining to the worlds beyond.

Like the elegance and grace in the architecture of a palace inspiring in us different things beyond the palace itself, nature, this exhibition of the miracles of Divine art, inspires in our hearts an intuition of the existence of One who, being the real source of all harmony and beauty, has brought it into existence and designed it, One who, although He makes us feel Himself through every work of His, is beyond the capacity of direct human perception.

The natural world and the heavens are as if in each other’s arms. It is as if in response to the strong desire of mountains to meet with heavens which they show by making their peaks lean on their skirts, heavens hang their skirts down over them. Like bees flying from one flower to the other, human imagination travels through the reflections of the Creator’s beauty and goes as fas as the horizon. When it reaches the horizon, thinking that the road goes on far into eternity beyond heavens, it sets out for a new journey and man begins to hear the melodies belonging to the worlds beyond. Those who, through their imaginations, can stay in those worlds for a long time, succeed in meeting the true beloved, with the love of whom they are consumed and for the union with whom they long.

For those who have resolved to make a journey through this realm of nature which provides knowledge of God for the traveller and where the heart, spirit and conscience overflow with innumerable kinds of pleasures, with its exhilarating spectacles, multi-coloured hills and slopes, impressive mountains that lead one into day-dreams, amorous gardens, awe-inspiring forests, streams and rivers murmuring in their way to union with seas-it is especially in spring and summer, a realm of joy, pleasure, peace and imagination. 

There is a magnificence, a charm, and a poetical harmony in every corner of this ‘book’ or exhibition. It is as if-with all its variety of beauty diversified in colours and forms, and the sheer charm of its general appearance, such that one would say, It is impossible for it to be more beautiful than this!-nature were in a sort of beauty competition. Those who have awakened to those beauties observe it differently and hear from it melodies of unimaginable beauty. Those ‘intoxicated’ spirits see trees dancing mentioning His Name and flowers announcing Him in the languages particular to themselves, and they hear everything in nature whispering peculiar messages from that symphony of beauty.

There are parts of nature which know of neither winter nor autumn. They are so dazzling and charming that you feel near the pont of touching the ultimate reach of beauty where this and other worlds are as if concentric with each other. The slopes of those places give you the impression that you are in gardens of Paradise, the rivers flowing through them bring to your mind the rivers of Paradise, and the swaying of their trees bring you a gust of breezes in gardens of Paradise. In short, in the beauties exhibited in those places you feel and observe the eternal beauties and, thinking that the worldly life is too short to experience all those beauties perfectly, you feel an earnest desire for eternity and turn to the Infinitely Powerful One so that that vital desire of yours may be realized.

What a pity it is that this magnificent book, this charming exhibition, which the Infinitely Merciful One has created and presented to man to observe and study and to be exhilarated by, is no longer given any more care than is given to a heap of junk or rubbish. Worse than that, it is more and more becoming a wasteland and like a dunghill.

Today, air, that magnificent conductor of Divine commands, is a suffocating smoke and a perilous ‘whirlpool’. Water, that source of life and other Divine bounties, is either a hazardous flood or forms desolate expanses of pitch. And earth, that treasure of Divine grace and munificence, is a wilderness no longer productive and a ruin without any ecological balance.

Like everything else entrusted to us, we have deplorably treated this ‘book’, this magnificent exhibition, which is an embodiment of Divine grace and mercy. How deplorably and awkwardly we have treated plains and residential places, which we have changed into deserts and heaps of ruin. How deplorably and gracelessly we have treated seas and rivers, which we have polluted. Again, how deplorably and awkwardly we have treated air and water, and fields, forests, and gardens, which we have made unfavorable to any life. Truly, by changing this Paradise-like world to a hell, how deplorably and awkwardly we have treated ourselves!

Unless we improve this world, whose order we have destroyed and which we have polluted, and restore it to its essential beauty and magnificence, it will inevitably collapse on us in heaps of wreckage.