Over the years, I came to appreciate that in order better to understand Hodjaefendi Fethullah Gülen and his teaching, it was important also to encounter him, either directly or indirectly, as an embodied teacher and person of prayer. And I was fortunate enough to have had the privilege of meeting him in person on two occasions. Both took place at the Golden Generation Retreat Centre in Pennsylvania, USA. The first was in December 2017, during a stay connected with a research project on his teaching and practice, and the development of Hizmet in Europe, which eventually led to the publication of two books [1]. The second was in February 2023, when he was evidently already very frail, but at which I had the honour of being able personally to present him with a copy of these books.

On the first occasion, I had presented him with three small gifts, namely: some tea, brought with me from England, as a typical English drink (although, of course, originating in China); a book on the history of Regent’s Park College which, as a Permanent Private Hall of the University of Oxford, had been founded to give opportunity to Baptist Christian believers who had been excluded from mainstream higher education; and finally, bearing in mind the experiences of many in Hizmet following the events in Turkey of July 2016 and the heavy burden that he so evidently felt concerning this, I felt moved to recite the Beatitudes of Jesus from the Christian New Testament (Gospel According to Matthew, chapter 5 v’s. 3–10):

³ “Blessed are the poor in spirit,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

⁴ Blessed are those who mourn,
For they shall be comforted.

⁵ Blessed are the meek,
For they shall inherit the earth.

⁶ Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
For they shall be filled.

⁷ Blessed are the merciful,
For they shall obtain mercy.

⁸ Blessed are the pure in heart,
For they shall see God.

⁹ Blessed are the peacemakers,
For they shall be called children of God.

¹⁰ Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

In relation to this recitation, I explained: “That’s my prayer as a person of faith” and that “I will do my best in my academic work in the service of truth” meek [2]. And, remarkably, just as I recited the Beatitudes, the Adhan was broadcast in the Centre and the two mingled in a few moments that have stayed with me ever since as among some of the most profoundly moving in my life.

Of the Beatitudes, Mustafa Özcan later explained that Hodjaefendi had asked for a Turkish translation, and after he heard the meaning he had said that, in these words Jesus (peace be upon him) had been referring not only to such people of his time but also to those who will come in the future [3]. Also in relation to this episode, Muhammed Çetin (whose doctoral research on Hizmet I was privileged to supervise) explained that, although in something that he was planning to write at the time, Hodjaefendi had originally been going to draw on the Sufi masters to write about how the negativities of modern human beings might be addressed, having been inspired by the Beatitudes, he thought that he should perhaps in that particular writing switch to focusing on the history of the Prophets (peace be upon them all) and what they taught about how to overcome human weaknesses [4].

The second time I was able to meet Hodjaefendi Fethullah Gülen was in February 2023, when he was already very frail. But I was nevertheless privileged to be able to present copies of my books to him, in relation to which Hakan Yeşilova vouchsafed that, on receiving them, Hodjaefendi had responded in Turkish, “Başımın üstüne alırım”, which, as typical of his gracious humility, meant that he had accepted them with both pleasure but also a sense of responsibility.

Therefore, since Hodjaefendi was kind enough in that way to honour my attempts to articulate something of his person and teaching, I will be bold enough to close this personal appreciation with words of my own from the final paragraph of one of these books, namely that: “…in the final analysis, the creative inheritance of Gülen will not be found so much in the substantive body of his inherited teaching, pregnant though that remains with matters that will remain important into the future; the veneration of his person and/or practice, inevitable as that is likely to be, given the inspiration that he has brought to so many lives; or the copy-pasting of historical Hizmet initiatives, as valid and important as they have been for their contexts and times, but rather is that of a dynamic methodological call to continuously renewed and contextualised engagement with religious and spiritual sources centred on love and the human” [5].

Notes

1. P. Weller (2022),Fethullah Gülen’s Teaching and Practice: Inheritance, Context, and Interactive Development | SpringerLink and P. Weller (2022), Hizmet in Transitions: European Developments of a Turkish Muslim-Inspired Movement | SpringerLink
2. P. Weller (2022), Fethullah Gülen’s Teaching and Practice, p. 75.
3. For originally cited wording see P. Weller (2022), Fethullah Gülen’s Teaching and Practice, p. 103-4.
4. For originally cited wording see P. Weller (2022), Fethullah Gülen’s Teaching and Practice, p. 104.
5. P. Weller (2022), Fethullah Gülen’s Teaching and Practice, p. 243.

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.

O the Most Merciful of the Merciful!

You are the One who spreads these vast universes like a book before each of us. You are the One who makes our consciences sense their secrets, and again it is You who makes our consciences a shore to the realm where the otherworldly mysteries rise in waves! We are nothing but servants at Your door. The sparkles that reflect onto our spirits are nothing but the light of Your existence. All that we have in our possession are Your blessings and gifts. I am announcing one more time, with the admission that we are servants to Your door who do not accept emancipation: we want to renew our solemn oath.

For centuries in this old world – whose hair long ago turned gray (a sign of death) and in whose body illnesses have long since made a home – how many generations have opened their eyes to a night that never ends, a night that is the longest of the year. How many times have our necks fell down and our eyes filled with tears at the sight of these generations with their hunched statures, locks of hair in disarray, twisted necks, scowling faces? We have always carried in our bosoms Jacob’s tears together with Zeliha’s love and longing for Joseph, as we have waited for the time when he would be released from prison to come for help. Generations live as if their brains were dried out and their hearts were fed to their stomachs; they could not see anyone around them who would understand their state of being. For, those who ran to them to supposedly ease their pain were really only coming for their own gluttonous desires.

In this longest night of the year, some just saw darkness, their thoughts were pitch-dark; and eventually they were defeated and eliminated by the night. Others ignored the voices they must have listened to and the scenery that they must have seen; instead, they spent their lives among the thorns choosing to listen to the raucous voices of magpies.

The night is, in fact, such a wondrous and mysterious conservatory of time that it is when those who are hurt compose and voice their pains deep from their hearts. Yet, many others were unable to hear its mysterious sound or understand what was happening around them under the cover of night. Actually, nothing else could be expected from their faithless looks, dead intentions, crooked thoughts, and twisted opinions.

As far as we are concerned, we have been lighthearted and worry-free for too long. We have been laughing at our lamentable state and have forgotten to cry throughout history. All we have wished for was to bring an end to our several centuries of lightheartedness and to invite people to cry together so that we could perhaps start composing a musical score of life in the depths of the night. For us, the night is a climate where thousands of beautiful things are scattered in the face of nature by the hands of light, existence, life, and power, and are germinated like seeds in its bosom.

Our wish was to cry for our ignorance. To cry for our unawareness of the things we have lost. To cry for our state of being, which has become like a statue of shortcomings, for our feelings, which have become atrophied, and for our hearts, which have become coarse. To cry for fear of dying in this state and of being resurrected in this state. To cry that in that big trial in the Hereafter we may stand with collars and shackles around us, and that we may not find a place among the glorious ones of the past and the fortunate ones of the future who will pass by in groups in that great parade. To cry for our loneliness like a fruit that has fallen off a tree; for being trampled upon; and for being deprived of mercy. Our wish was to flap our wings and fly as high up as we could like doves and give out such a sigh at the highest point in the sky so that our tears would turn into clouds, and thus into drops of rain that would extinguish our fires. Our wish was to put out the fires of hostility and hatred, and the fires of this world and the next.

O, the Sultan of hearts, the remembrance and contemplation of whom gives peace to our spirits! O, the Exalted Creator, the Most Beautiful of the Beautiful, who brings us into existence and makes our hearts feel the eternal pleasure of existing!

We are in this night – a night with humming waters all around, occasional radiant lamps, and dreams that come scattered in its bosoms with seeds of faith, determination, hope, and beauty, dreams that come over and over to envelop our spirits; a night which gathers all of the elements of poetry and art to become an unforgettable memory. In this realm of secrets where the colors of the sky, the sounds of water, and the humming of birds flow and fill spirits, as life and existence become more paradoxical and profound, we strove to convey what You taught us and instilled into our souls, and then unto those whose hearts are like ours; perished and wrecked. We have sometimes explored things and events; at other times we have looked into our souls so as to discern out of all of these happenings the windows that show Your existence and the pathways that will elevate us to Your presence.

When setting out on this path, we set the eyes of our hearts to a golden slice of time to come, in which human values would have prospered and deepened, feelings have become entirely otherworldly, the body has started sampling the same values with the spirit; a time of marvels which would be formed by pieces of the “lost paradise”; marvels so delicate that they would have surpassed our imaginations, the paradise we have sought for a long time in our world of feelings. As we watched this slice of time in our soul, we also felt its inspirations would come our way again and again and flow into our fantasies and dreams. In our imaginations, those fortunate people of the future would pursue their lives in the most enchanted atmosphere of spiritual pleasures and delights thanks to their immense faith, genuine reliance on God (tawakkul), and sincere submission. We imagined them to be sole possessors of this vast pleasure and delight, their hearts always beating with goodness and beauty, their eyes opening and closing with tolerance and leniency, they would live and sense the world just like heaven, and almost always they would hear from all souls – and in fact from all the creation – the most colorful poetry. We shared their utmost joy at the high ebb of our hopes, and we poured out smiles on the good fortune of this generation to come.

In the youthful and heavenly bright blue days of this new spring rising in our world of hope, expectations, and faith, life would pour unto us so softly, so warmly, and so colorfully that it would be as if we always heard heaven’s unimaginable depths in them. We would embrace all of existence, greet all living things with compassion, hug all people with affection, and say to ourselves, “This must be the Creator’s purpose for creating the realms!” In that world, there would be no coarseness, roughness, worldly ambition, vain hopes, arguing, contention, treachery, lying, wrongdoing, oppression, corruption, or embezzlement. In that world there would be altruism, refinement, determination for revival, love of life, mildness, dialogue, respect for the truth, feelings of trust, the feeling of loyalty, the spirit of truth, and the idea of justice and stability. The people of this world would have excised true hostility, hatred, and conflict from their dictionaries and establish their lives upon love, softness, and human relations. They would accept people around them as they were, and instead of seeing different understandings, interpretations, and behaviors as grounds for fighting, they instead would recognize these differences as opportunities so they could display to others their broad horizon of thought and show them how it would be possible to live humanly in different variations. This rainbow world still fills our dreams.

Yes, while looking at our world of dreams from today’s soot-filled, rusty windows that are surrounded and full of every kind of coarseness, we can still sense that new life has been born again like the sun and that dawn has broken with beauty on all sides. We sense that flowers in red, pink, and yellow are swaying and casting their coquettish glances everywhere, that daises are dancing, and Judas trees are taking flame from the tulip. We still sense that the general mood and atmosphere are inspiring our hearts with the promise of happiness, and that a vast prosperity overflows in our souls with an eternal tone. We sense the emergence of a resurrection as joyous as filled with the bleats of sheep and lambs, the tweeting of birds, the sounds of trees and water, and the rustling of leaves. It is a resurrection that comes into being that is as sweet as the excitement of mothers rejoicing at the sight of their children, as magical and influential as in the faces of loved ones, as full, convincing, delicate, and refined like the excitement of mothers and the joy of children, enchanting and effective as in the hearts of lovers.

Our Lord! We were on a lofty journey that gave hearts seeking divine knowledge the possibility of rising to heavenly realms to the best of their capacity. This journey was made possible after the Chosen One’s heavenly ascension, which is portrayed in Your word and the map of which was drawn to the finest detail. We ask for Your forgiveness and attribute it to our immature spirits that do not know good manners and rules of conduct if on this journey we were too bold as to touch the knob of Your doors of secrets. While wishing to inform needy hearts of that happy day when we will meet You and Your Exaltedness without veils or obstacles, it is probable that we did not remain tied to high truths described in the purest and clearest expressions. While trying to explain certain truths to some immature spirits who could not go past the shell of this life into the reality of this world, and whose hearts had been caught up by its feigned beauties, perhaps we undermined the sacred walls of the metaphysical and instead glorified the physical. Perhaps we are guilty of not presenting the most open truths in their purest essence and instead served our desires and wishes. 

If we are at fault, we did so while coming to You and while trying to show others the way. If we made a mistake, we did it on Your path. A mistake is always a mistake, and a fault is always a fault. With broken hearts, humbled spirits, and chains around our necks, we wait with a thousand souls for the judgment You will give. While saying this, we know that Your mercy, which is infinite, has always come before Your wrath. It is certain that fault does not befit Your door’s servant who are aware of Your blessings, but please allow us to say that forgiveness befits You very much!

Yes, my Sultan! “The royalty befits a Sultan and servitude befits a slave.” In this respect, we beg from You once again: Give tears to our eyes and make us cry! In order for You to be merciful, make us cry for not feeling longing because of our distance from You! Make us cry for our hearts which do not rupture with the pain of separation and longing for reunion. Make us cry so the fire of separation will sear our bosoms and let out from therein a scream which will cause a clamor from the angels and the celestial sphere. Have compassion upon our darkened spirits and make them cry! Make us cry, for even our cries require a cry for themselves! Have mercy on my broken stature, locks in disarray, faint color, twisted neck, and broken heart, and make me cry! At this calmest moment in the minutes when You answer prayers, I turn to You with my head that does not prostrate before anyone other than You. With shaking lips, I beg You not to make us miserable in these deserts and to turn this wilderness into a rose garden with our tears.

My Lord! Give softness to our hearts not in regard to our remoteness from You, but in respect to Your closeness, and make us cry so much that we lose ourselves, pass from shame and dignity on Your path until other people call us “mad.”

On the back cover of the 2017 May-June edition of this magazine we were reminded of the knot that binds us to the tangle we have made of human existence. Releasing the knot, one would contend, requires first an awareness of the nature of the knot, which means knowing what caused the tangle.

We are horribly aware of what is, but hardly aware of why. Your correspondent rather fears to suggest that in respect of human history, and as far as the current terrorists are   concerned, they are not even par for the course. This not an apology and is by no means a suggestion that they are anything less than undesirable, but they do have a long way to go to equal our collective bloody past. You don’t need a list.

It may be reasonable to suggest that frustration is at the root of most human folly. The terrorists are frustrated by their own need to find release from persecution perceived, but more likely a purpose for their lives. It amounts to the adoption of a system, a philosophy, a reason to be. It is often similar, in albeit psychological content, to what we often undertake in the name of “our interests.” Humans are also frustrated by the need for some of us to be rude, as in the appalling attacks of the good name of the Prophet Muhammad, which were used as an excuse to release ingrained frustrations. Should we really be aghast when we end up with a bloody nose after insulting someone? We do not discuss right or wrong because we are confronted by simply what is. Our lack of comprehension when being hit tells of an equal lack of awareness of human decency and that really means our own lack because, after all, you generally get back what you engender. The Hindus call it karma. All right, let’s tell it how it is. “Keep your dirty mouth off me, buddy, or you’re gonna get a smack in the eye.” Thus, however crass, crude or unsophisticated, that is how things stand. We must possibly consider that the human fuse is longer or shorter according to the individual. Even if so inclined, one would perhaps risk an oblique thrust against an educated, worldly wise person, but I will hesitate to walk into a black neighborhood shouting about white supremacy. This by no means supposes that people in a black neighborhood are unsophisticated, but it does suppose common sense, as opposed to being either cowardly or brave, or downright silly. Quite obviously, speaking one’s mind is often far removed from exercising common sense. To be fair, there would seem to be a need for a study about what to do with thoughts that are less than useful. The “freedom to be me” set would protest, but I am suggesting a universal creed, borrowed again from one of the mystics, of being able to do anything you like in this world, as long as you don’t hurt anybody.

Don’t think about it: only God is good.

The peoples of this world have been insulting each other since the beginning of time. Nevertheless, there must be more to the matter. History shows us that most nations have at one time or another been at the top of the pile politically, culturally, and naturally financially. The top nations were then seen to slide right on down again (Rome is the obvious example.) How come? They had it all! It is a common notion to say that wealth brings responsibility with it. But with tons of money available, decadence is a beguiling and easy option. Above all, we are bound to admit that the exhilarating, albeit disastrous, slide down is likely to be made rapid to the extent of a nation’s financial means.

One could also suggest that as far as the terrorists are concerned, they may well be running on a sort of universal “now is my time” program. The wheel of human endeavor has turned – someone has even suggested that there is a noticeable historic cycle in social change – and we are now faced with another bully thrusting to the fore. Please remember that none of the so-called advanced nations have ever succeeded without bullying, usually some other country’s indigenous peoples. This brings about frustration and an arising group urge. First comes the insult perceived, then comes the instinctive, then the planned, fight back.

Please consider that terrorists have, in one guise or another, littered the lives and existence of humans for thousands of years. The name, the cause, the flag under which they kill may have been superficially varied, but the root cause, the why, has always been the same. Humans have an appetite for anger. To be precise, anger is an appetite!

Has anyone ever investigated appetite? The mystics deal with it. The Islamic mystic, Sheikh Jilani, has pinpointed our lower instincts, for which the Arabic word is nafs. Our nafs are not merely our egos, but are somewhat akin to the appetites we attach to our lower impulses. Am I splitting hairs, here? Nevertheless, whether from the Arabic or otherwise, nafs, our lower impulses, are universal one way or another to all of humanity.

The ego is indeed pure until it acquires a less than useful appetite. Our motivating forces (often animal or material in nature) may well be necessary for navigating our daily lives, but there are few among us able to use them under the governance of a human attitude, read God’s guidance. Nevertheless, it may seem to be confusing the issue somewhat to suggest that our lower impulses are also needed to get out of bed in the morning with a purpose. In other words, an ego is little more than a mechanical function that has somehow acquired enormous clout in the minds of humans. The ego is very useful for undertaking work, for getting you to the train on time, for making money, but not for using money for matters of detriment. Such as having a war supported by a war industry. Thus, doing what you truly feel guided to do and nothing else is demonstrably tricky. Your mind will always find a reason for you to indulge in your appetite for sex, drugs and… (ok, let’s keep rock ‘n’ roll), the world, the world. One of the problems arising when discussing ego is that it is loaded with connotation. Everyone will tell you that egoism is bad, but that is not true! It is what you do with your ego that is often out of context. That’s the point, it is the notion of what you do that is of the essence. The big idea, of course, is to keep your self separate from your ego. In other words: my ego, my servant, and not the other way round. Moreover, my mind, my servant, and not the other way round, would suggest relegating the mind to its proper position within the human frame. This perhaps sounds like a good idea, on paper, and one should be able to exercise free will to undertake it. The problem is that not many wills on this earth are actually free. (Ask any parent struggling to put a child through school.) There always appear to be the add-ons, coloration engendered by experience. The Hindu maintains that “…to live life according to experience is the most bitter of ways.” Another mystic has also said that people make most mistakes when feeling happy. That may sound weird, and this writer apologizes for not offering an example. I would need a month on a desert island to figure that one out.

Can we envisage “my mind, my servant”? A mind that serves and does not lead? A humble mind is a rarity, of course. A mind denying its self for most of us would be, well, unthinkable. This writer asks forgiveness for adding sophistry; it is a writer’s test of faith. But it does mean that the true human self should be, but rarely is, separate from a person’s motivating forces. Hence inner conflict.

It has been suggested that to worship God one must make neutral the effects of the heart and the mind. This emptying of worldly influences, which are actually necessary for living in the world, for a period of worship means permitting God to take over. With the heart and mind in neutral, the nafs, our lower motivating forces, are in abeyance. At the finish of worship, the nafs will again thrust to the fore, often with a vengeance. Five times daily in prayer is a constant return to God. Then by the grace of God we may wish to consider the forces within us as they really are. It must be of great value to be able to dissociate ourselves – achieve distance – from our lower forces, get them into focus but not to eradicate them because one may never get off one’s desert island. One may also meditate at lofty Himalayan heights and even “shake” the hand of God, but would be incapable of coming down to the valley where human life goes on.

Our lower motivating forces should be – in fact are – the instruments given at our disposal for work, for undertaking science, for example, for feeding ourselves and our families, thus, for dealing with our worldly responsibilities. Many persons of an ascetic leaning have removed themselves from “the world” in an endeavor to subdue their lower forces. Indeed, Muhammad went to his cave, Jesus went into the desert for forty days and forty nights. Their motivating instinct, however, was submission, for receiving and not conceiving. After all, can we really be wiser than God? These persons then returned to the world to assist the rest of humankind. This writer remembers the story of a Buddhist monk who had received nirvana, after which he returned to the marketplace, the world, to serve humanity. In its simplest form it was all about knowing what makes people suffer, what makes people afraid, what makes people turn to their lower instincts for answers and then makes them fight. The German language offers Existenzangst, which is a good a word as any for describing the root of the human condition.

Jesus returned knowing what makes people be the way they are, Muhammad, too, and he was reported to have cried out in anguish at his knowing. The Buddha came to his realization of what makes people unhappy, which was, of course, desire.

The Islamic tradition leans, quite rightly I believe, on the sciences – the use of the mind to serve for the betterment of human existence. It is not a mystical matter, but it is engendered by a mystical instinct. First the realization, then the serving. Moreover, using the mind to cultivate a garden, harness solar energy, or simply attending to one’s given profession could reasonably be suggested as being God’s preferred way of keeping us out of trouble. Those of theological persuasion may well suggest that one is unable to enter through the gates of heaven through works. This writer would contend, however, that enterprise is not the real meaning of work, or works. It may be reasonable to suggest that anything undertaken through the designs of God has already been blessed, however mundane it may appear. Philosophers, writers in general and those who would delve into higher things are naturally at risk. It is dangerous terrain, often a tightrope walk over a yawning chasm engendered by the heart and the mind, which amounts to the most sophisticated double act to ever enter upon the stage of human endeavor. This writer has also been in the presence of a mystic who once maintained that he had no real knowledge of what he was about to say (lecture notes would be anathema). His inspiration was from above.

Thus, after our daily prayers we return to the world on a hopefully even keel. Our appetites, which, let’s face it, are currently raging around the planet, are for a while governed by a higher force.

It has been suggested – and don’t get me wrong here – that prayer changes nothing. Prayer changes people and people change things. This writer is inclined to equate prayer with a spontaneously arising feeling of hope for betterment in the face of trouble. Thus, to hope for betterment, and not wish to kill, is in itself grace.

The only way to surrender to God, it seems, is to place one’s lower motivating forces in abeyance for a while. But never, ever, try to eradicate them.

This writer finds himself, at long last, reading James Michener’s Iberia. At the beginning of the book Michener tells us about duende (grace recognized) and shibui (aesthetic rightness). Both explanations are approximations. My leaning for such things, my temperament, brought on enthusiasm. The promising beginning was brief, however, and Mr. Michener then takes the reader through 800 pages of small print dealing mostly with the history, art and culture of the Iberian peninsula. Mr. Michener tells us what is or was, but not why.

Our brains consist of many different types of cells, including astrocytes, microglia, and neurons. These are the cells that people are indirectly referring to when you hear someone say that hitting your head can cause permanent damage even though the initial impact was a minor one. They are the primary cells that are responsible for signaling functions, and one can see this in their shape because they resemble an electric cord. The dendrites receive signals, process them in cell bodies, and send an output signal via the axons and synaptic terminals (Figure 1). These cells cannot multiply, and our heads never get larger, so it begs the following question: how do we continue to learn and store information? The answer is long-term potentiation (LTP).

LTP is when synaptic connections between neurons become stronger with frequent activation. Neuronal activation is an electrical signal called an action potential that emerges due to a change in ion locations resulting in electrical potential that generates a nerve impulse (Figure 2). When the same neurons keep getting activated, again and again, a shortcut is created. We have two crucial receptors that play a role in this mechanism: AMPA and NMDA. AMPA is activated first because a Mg2+ ion blocks NMDA. As AMPA gets activated, the neuron becomes depolarized (due to the previously mentioned electrical changes). Now, the neuron is more positive overall, which will push the Mg2+ ion out of the channel, which is called the Law of Attraction in physics (i.e., opposites attract). With the Mg2+ ion removed, calcium ions can move freely through the NMDA receptor, and this influx of calcium initiates cellular mechanisms that cause more AMPA channels to be produced and placed on the synapse of the neuron, making the pathway activated quicker and quicker (Figure 3). These pathways become a default, and this is called long-term potentiation. The opposite of long-term potentiation is long-term depression, a decrease in synaptic strength, so if “you don’t use it, you lose it.”

Long-term potentiation is thought to be a way in which the brain changes in response to experience, and thus may be an underlying mechanism for learning, retaining memory, and even overall physical health. With long-term potentiation our default pathways are formed; so if we train ourselves to be anxious and stressed individuals, then we will be at an increased risk for developing hypertension, heart disease, cancer, and almost any other physical illness. We often forget that stress itself is a risk factor along with other lifestyle choices such as diet and regular physical activity. An interesting article, “The Science of Happiness: Why Complaining is Literally Killing You,” delves into this point of view:

“When your brain is firing off these synapses of anger, you’re weakening your immune system; you’re raising your blood pressure, increasing your risk of heart disease, obesity and diabetes, and a plethora of other negative ailments… This is why it is so important to spend time with people who lift you up. Want to be happy? Surround yourself with happy people who rewire your brain towards love.” (http://www.curiousapes.com/the-science-of-happiness-why-complaining-is-literally-killing-you/)

Long-term potentiation is also the basis of cognitive-behavioral therapy, which is a form of psychotherapy treatment that is goal-oriented and takes a practical approach to problem-solving. Cognitive-behavioral therapy recognizes the underlying mechanism of long-term potentiation: neurons that fire together wire together and puts it to good use by trying to change default patterns of thinking and behavior. By changing these default patterns, the result changes how we feel. For example, a common practice in cognitive-behavioral therapy is to keep a daily gratitude journal. The therapist may ask their client to write three things they are grateful for each morning and each night, whether it be something as simple as having water to drink or a significant life event. Forcing yourself to make these connections continuously, and being in a default repetitive state of gratitude, has been scientifically proven to decrease rates of depression and other mental illnesses.

Another perspective we can approach LTP from is from the lens of faith and prayer since prayer has an element of repetition in it. In his book, Fethullah Gülen: A Life of Hizmet, Jon Pahl states that “Peacebuilders pray, and prayer is a nonviolent practice. Even more: prayer has power. The power of prayer is neither political nor miraculous. Personally, prayer builds confidence. The repetition of prayer comforts a troubled mind with the solace of the familiar. Culturally, prayer builds trust. Communing with God and others can make any challenge seem surmountable. Socially, prayer builds movements.”

Yes, if we could rewire our brains towards love and peace with each prayer, we could find comfort and peace, and build bridges with those around us. In 2019 alone, the Islamic scholar Fethullah Gülen Hodjaefendi, mentioned the word “neurons” in his weekly sermons nine times, a fascinating statistic for a scholar who is neither a neuroscientist nor psychiatrist. Some excerpts from these sermons include:

“[when recited and listened to a couple times during the day and in the Tarawih Prayer] the Qur’an will establish itself better in our minds; our neurons will open their doors like the doors of a castle to the Qur’an and say ‘enter.’ Therefore, who knows how many times a day, a reunion will be established with the Qur’an.” (Ramadan: The Month of Mercy, Hope and Abundance on May 10, 2019)

“Bediuzzaman says: ‘Even if we had four hands instead of two, they would not be sufficient to do things we need to do.’ … In this case, we must send orders to the millions of neurons in our brain at the same to dedicate them all to the same task. … God opens you a window to exit. (Means for Serenity and Talk of the Beloved on April 4, 2019)

“[‘The entire universe is a great book of God; the meaning of each letter is nothing but God.’] Just as you … use all of your neurons to see the endless possibility of bounties, lined along like a gallery as if He is to say, ‘see and think as you walk this gallery.’ (Sorrow, the Spiritual Heart and Tongue on March 29, 2019)

To return to the biological aspect of neurons, one key component that is also valuable to synthesize all the information we have just covered, and that is the concept of “mirror neurons.” When we observe another person these mirror neurons start to fire and a kind of virtual reality simulation is formed in our minds, contributing to the construction of a theory of our intentions. For example, when someone smiles, you want to smile back; when someone gets a paper cut, you feel their pain; or when someone cries, you cannot help but cry as well. These are all phenomena explained by mirror neurons. Mirror neurons explain empathy on a biological level and are present even in animals.

From a multi-disciplined approach, including biological, psychosocial, and spiritual perspectives, one lesson becomes clear: we have the free will and responsibility to carve our default pathways. To make sure these default pathways are filled with love, peace, serenity, alongside discipline, patience, and resilience is paramount to our personal and collective health. By defining our own neural pathways, we will also be building our community’s networks since neurons mirror each other.

(Circle3: On the touchy implorations by Imam Zeynel Abidin, continued)

Together with all of the fears and worries that this saintly person voices at his entreaties, he does not neglect to petition God with reference to divine beneficence and his heart changes rhythm with the excitement of hope. By behaving in this way, he presents an attitude that calls to mind the act of straightening up after bowing to God. For those who continue to struggle spiritually, he thus points to the ampleness of Divine Mercy with reference to the fact that “God’s mercy takes precedence over His wrath” [1]. One cannot help but remember the following words of a poet at this point:

“What would happen even if my sins were like the mount Qaf, O Majestic One,
Compared to Your sea of Mercy, it is surely a little thing”

He acts in accordance with this poetic idiom and spits in the face of sins and faults by imploring, “Please hold my hand to guidance, O God!” He places his head down on the doorstep of hope and petitions God once more by saying, “Mercy, mercy!” then he enters a mood as if he were sipping fresh oxygen and sighs on. Here are a few droplets from those breaths:

“O the One who responds with mercy as soon as His servants turn to Him, who never leaves their hopes unanswered, who saves them from the grief of falling apart from Him with the extra ways and disciplines that make them closer to Him, who covers up the defects of those polluted with sins and vices! O my most exalted Lord! As you never turned down those who turned to your door with hope and placed their head on Your doorstep empty handed, do not abandon this humble servant of Yours to despair either!”

With these cries, he makes petitions with a tone of fear and hope and thus gives the successors of his path signals for turning to that door with the feeling of hope. With a call to prayer, he lets the vastness of Divine Mercy be heard, even by unfortunate ones who have lost their sense of prayer direction. He calls to them to share his experiences and to hopefully inspire them to find their way. By presenting them with the most vivid messages woven out of hope and fear, he shows the ways towards a fresh revival with lyrics of resurrection after death; afterwards, like the archangel’s breath to initiate the resurrection, he blows life into them and turns them to the direction of the Divine they lost.

There are so many points I omitted from this profound session. With apologies to him and to readers, I would like to conclude with these diamond-like considerations. With other imploring groans special to his spiritual anatomy with heavenly riches, I would like to refer to some other life-giving points that sound like angelic melodies which he makes while his tears stream on. His tongue is guided by the heart, his thoughts beyond metaphysical realms, his sir (secret faculty) in citadels beyond and beyond, surpassing our comprehension. Here are a few droplets around the same theme as examples of those considerations, which deserve to be called a “legend of spirituality”:

“My God! Though I am without provisions, my reliance and submission to You is complete. In spite of this, when I think that my transgressions are boundless, I shake and fear from being subjected to Your punishment. On the other hand, when the ampleness of Your mercy comes to my view, my heart overflows with a feeling of optimism. So, when I am in that mood, although my sins make me groan with fear about perdition, my hope about Your pardoning gives signals of possible forgiveness to my soul.” What a balanced approach, which is found in those closest to God! What a profound blend of hope and fear! He continues to say, “Even though I came to Your sublime presence empty-handed, the consideration of the ampleness of Your bountifulness reinvigorates this servant of Yours and my eyes start shining brightly with Your beneficence’s promise of benisons. So much so that at the same moment when I am brimful with transgressions, my heart begins to experience changes of rhythm one after the other, with extra surprises of Your pardoning and breezes of proximity. Here I am at Your presence, O God! I let myself to the waterfalls of Your mercy and get away from myself as far as I can and turn to You with the entirety of my being!”

With a feeling of fear and insight of expectancy, he has an attitude of admitting failure to give his position its due. Then this great personage from those closest to God changes his orbit of prayer; virtually, with the idea that “worship is a result of blessings already enjoyed,” he once more takes into consideration the shower of Divine blessings that he has already received and begins to resonate with thankfulness by touching his face onto the doorstep of gratitude. He responds to God’s blessings beyond count and measure with thankful praises by giving his tongue and lips under the command of his spiritual intellect:

“My God! I do not know what to say before your immense blessings that come showering on the horizons of my perception consecutively. Before the Divine favors out of Your grace and generosity I remain spellbound and lost for words. When I consider Your very special blessings that come flowing like waterfalls and much beyond my deserts under the light of “Were you to attempt to count God’s blessings, you could not reckon them” (Ibrahim 14:34). Helpless to say anything, I double over with this feeling. Before those special bestowals of Yours, I feel manifold humility of indebtedness: My revival to life in the real sense with faith. Turning to Your door via Islam, with the honor and sense of duty of being sworn to worship only You, my head is down on the doorstep of munificence and grace, my hand on the knob of beneficence and bestowals, upon which I say “all of these are from You” and feel revitalized with thankfulness. Actually, even this feeling of thankfulness is from You. Whenever I offer thanks to You, given that thankfulness is another blessing of Yours – with such a virtuous cycle of thankfulness, I will never be able to offer due praise and thanks to You.”

If only we could continue our lives always on this course with awareness of these bestowals! Although we are not capable of thorough comprehension, I wish we could take what He has given as a sign of what He will give and thus take up the path to eternal bliss. It is especially important to remember this considering that this world is often compared to a carcass, without letting our hearts fall for this transient world. If only we could turn our backs to worldly status, fame, glory, wealth, corporeal desires, and thus always walk to the sun of suns without faltering. Alas! We fell for the attractions of this transitory world! With delusions of immortality, we were entangled with long-term worldly ambitions and suffered such losses on what could otherwise be a suitable ground for winning. Bediuzzaman put it so beautifully: “Alas! We have been deceived. We thought that this worldly life is constant, and thus utterly wasted everything. Indeed, this passing life is but a sleep that passed like a dream. This life, having no foundation, flows away like a brook.”

It is such a bitter fact that we fell for this deception, and at the expense of losing eternity. We were captivated by the passing attractions of these faithless desires and thus totally condemned the eternal realms to oblivion and thus darkened our futures. So much so that we were neither properly give the due of Divine bestowals and benisons nor were we able to comprehend them. To put this in the breaths of Ziya Pasha:

“We are the losers of this game once again;
For the loss is obvious, but I don’t know if we won anything at all.”

Actually, it was not possible for us to win. Because we led a carefree life as if we would never die and rendered this world—an arable field for the Afterlife—into a wasteland. By destroying the bridges extending to eternity on our course in the world one by one, we ceased the thoughts of the realms beyond and belief. We did not manage to come to our senses to see our miserable condition and turn to God.

Note

1. Bukhari, Tawhid 22; Muslim, Tawba 15.

Related Articles

• Facing Oneself
• Facing Oneself-2

– Hello grandma, how is everything?

– Oh, my dear Seyma, is that you? Since you are calling all the way from America I will not waste much. I am doing well, take good care of yourself and never forget to put aside your charity before Friday prayer every week.

– Sure, grandma, is there anything you ask of me?

– Tell me, if I were to come to collect donations for the orphans in my town, would President Clinton give me any?

– My dearest grandma, you ask this all the time; I am in America, but I really do not meet with President Clinton at all. I am an ordinary college student and he does not roam around the streets.

I then wondered and chuckled, “the audacity to ask the President of the States when you live far away in a rural part of Anatolia!”

***

All of our cousins, aunts, and uncles would gather in her large but simple 4-bedroom home every Eid. Sugar-loaded grandkids would look for trouble and would find money at every corner of the giant hand-woven rug, to which she anxiously warned: “This sac of money belongs to the fridge project for Ms. Aisha; the right corner belongs to the school supplies for Ms. Khadija’s daughters; and the red sack has the money for Ms. Fatima’s house project. Do not even touch, my dears, as these are sacred.”

She built dozens of houses with the funds that she collected bit by bit, day by day, cent by cent and would store it under the rug. She would never let a family go without fulfilling all of their needs and finding a sustainable source of income. A couple days a week, she would take the needy families down to the marketplace to visit businessmen and ask for help. Some of them knew of her sincere intentions while others complained when she arrived. However, she certainly did not care what others would think of her. She would be helping a family or two and they would sit around the table with all of us every Eid dinner. My uncles and aunts were the “elites” of the town, and so this notion was not something we were used to in our normal lives. I then grunted for her absurdness for squeezing us all with strangers.

***

She used to sit down on her old velvet couch with her green thousand-count prayer beads in her hands as she looked out the window and lamented why the municipality would turn on the light at 5:30 pm when it gets dark only slightly later. If she saw an unnecessarily lit area, no matter how tired she was and what time of the day it was, she would hastily run to turn them off despite her old age and swollen legs.

The most striking part of the story used to come when she turned the lights off when my grandfather was in the bathroom. It was typical in most houses to have light switches outside of the room. When he screamed for her to turn the light back on, she, with a great sense of humor and seriousness, shouted back “Get done and come out quickly, there is nothing to see there anyhow!”

The most memorable quote from her was the Qur’anic verse, “…eat and drink, but waste not by excess, for God does not love wasters” (7:31).

I thought she was exaggerating this a bit much.

***

– Granny, I have exams this week. Can you please pray for me?

– Oh, my sweetie, may God help all those in need including you. I will pray for everyone, God willing.

– No grandma, that is NOT what I want. I want you to pray for ME!

With a smile, she would embrace and kiss me on the head.

I was then heart-broken thinking that I wasn’t special to her.

***

Her first name was Ihsaniye, which means “the bestowed.” She met with her Beloved God on a Feb 14^th after a long battle with a heinous cancer. The whole town cried – and, I thought I even heard the sky cry – with chants of her nickname, “the Mother of Orphans.”

Now, I have your hand-woven blue-beige medallion-style wool rug, which was the container of your little sacks, maroon-ruby wedding ring, and your green thousand-count prayer beads in my hands to cherish your beautiful heart and soul, the giant heart to fit all of humanity, the soul that cared for the earth…

As I sip my dark and warm coffee in this light and spacious hall, in one of the country’s most sustainable buildings, Kroon Hall in New Haven, listening to professors, NGOs, and private sectors presenting their vision, solutions, and efforts on Climate Change, Sustainability, and Economic Empowerment, I sigh deeply, and remember the Mother of Orphans, my dearest grandmother.

The Example of the First Circle around the Prophet and Those Who Followed Them

(continuing from the previous issue)

Zayn al-Abidin (659-713), the son of Prophet Muhammad’s grandson Husayn, was a deeply spiritual person who voiced his woeful sighs, hoping to gain God’s forgiveness and mercy. The following is some of his pearl-like prayers:

“O God, I am not the first person that has spent his life in rebellion and then turned to you with a sincere feeling of remorse. I have touched the doorknob of Your door of Mercy, and thus expected Your mercy, compassion, and grace; so many others bowed their heads before that door and none of them returned empty-handed.”

“O my most exalted Lord! I have come to Your sublime presence without any provisions; You are such a magnanimous Bestower; please respond to my prayers and implorations, and do not let me down in my hopes and expectations!”

These sighs and pleas resonate with those made by the people within the “blessed circle,” the group of Companions and family members of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) that knew him personally and were able to directly experience his radiance and spirituality. Thus, they offer these compositions of prayer from their heart to those whose hearts gave in to heedlessness and are astray from the course that they are supposed to take. Their goal with these heart-piercing prayers is to try and make the souls of those stranded on the path – like myself – feel what they felt. With lyrics from “the blessed circle,” and the tune from this angelic soul of Zayn al-Abidin who burned with a love of God, they express their opening up to God in the mode of adhan – call to prayer – and attempt to come to grips with their soul through prayers such as:

How can sleeping heedlessly be becoming for the humble servant,
while the All-Beneficent calls out with compassion at nights
(Ibrahim Haqqi)

Such prayers resonate with the heartstrings of those who understand and – if they are not in complete spiritual death – rise and come running with the hopes of getting closer to the Almighty. May God enable us, too, to be awakened with those sincere invocations and come to our senses!

Zayn al-Abidin does not suffice only with opening up to God, and thus wishes to turn to Him in every way that he can spiritually. To be of guidance to those coming from behind in how to face oneself for sincere repentance, he places his head down at the door of Divine beneficence and mercy, and this time offers a different prayer:

“My God! My wrongdoings and sins – as if he were someone who ever committed sin (FG) – enshroud my soul with despicableness. I have become separate from You and I am clad in misery. Sins have utterly darkened my heart – what a profound self-supervision it is! (FG). I am at Your door, my head bowing on the doorstep of compassion; O the solely worshiped and besought one! Please do accept this beseeching and repentance of mine! Once more, I have turned to Your most exalted court. With my head humbly bowed down, I obediently stand in Your Supreme presence and wait for a decree of my forgiveness. If you expel this servant of Yours from Your door, whom can I turn to; whom can I seek refuge with?! O Almighty Lord who forgives even the greatest sin and dresses up injured hearts in disorientation. I wish from You to forgive my shameful wrongs and regard them as null, and to screen all of my sins. In the realms beyond, do not deprive me either, of Your graces to those whom You love and of that refreshing climate of Your favors, bounty, and beneficence!”

By presenting one more different picture of imploration with these words, he attempts to drink from the fountains of forgiveness, repentance, and sincere penitence. In direct proportion with their vast horizons of spiritual knowledge, they grieve so deeply that it would be easy to mistake them for sinners. Even though we may not be aware, such sighs are in fact prayers of glorification and actually belong to the horizons of those closest to God; they are a call to prayer to warn the ignorant ones. No matter what a person of that level of spirituality says, I think that that monumental personage actually did not even socialize with evil temptations even in his dream. On the other hand, he still kept praying and asking for forgiveness, which was an outcome of his exceptionally close position before God; this is a lesson and serves as spiritual counsel for us.

“I am at Your doorstep,” says he constantly and keeps petitioning to God with his head humbly bowed down:

“O my exalted God! Do not ever let me be separated from You and fall into sin. Do not allow me to drift into rebellion, which is like an all-consuming sea. Save this servant of Yours from drifting to things to incur Your displeasure! Here I complain to You about my distressing carnal soul which makes me run after never ending worldly ambitions; my carnal soul that keeps whining against troubles and misfortunes, which credits itself for every good thing and is always inclined to futility. Inflicted with heedlessness and oblivion, my carnal soul makes me ever prone to sins, and tempts me to delay my repentance to You until ‘tomorrow’ with each passing day.”

I do not know what this pure and innocent soul, who already rests on the horizons of contentment with God, means by his “carnal soul”? He goes even further seeking refuge against Satan and whirlpools of fancies:

“O God! I complain to You about this dead heart of mine, captivated by various evil whisperings and hardened with rust, and which forgot the meaning of being in fear and awe of God…

Can those among us who has been in oblivion of tears and shudders of the heart now for centuries, those who have reduced faith to outward rituals, those who are described in the Qur’an as “donkeys loaded with books” (Jumu’ah 62:5), those who are not aware of what they are carrying, can they make sense of these prayers?

He still does not suffice with this and turns to the horizons of awe and reverence of God, and to the essential elements of human perfection and virtue in the shade of the truth “the beginning of wisdom is awe of God.” He groans, as if voicing the following lines of the poet Mehmed Akif, and once more he humbly bends before the Truth:

What gives loftiness to character is neither wisdom nor the conscience,
It is a fear of God that evokes the feeling of virtue in us
If fear of the Almighty in hearts were to disappear,

Wisdom or the conscience would not have any influence anymore
Life would fall to an animal level; no, even lower than animals! (M. Akif)

This is the thinking of Zayn al-Abidin and with such thoughts he inspires others to become true humans. He expresses these feelings through prayers of fear and reverence before God. Beyond the peaks of consciousness of being seen by Him, he groans like a reed flute as if they are brought before God and have a vigilant attitude. Here are a few bunches of fear and awe from him in different patterns and hues of hope:

“O my exalted God, the eternal sovereign of mercy and compassion! Are You to throw this loyal servant of Yours who turned to You into the fire of being without You? Are You to deprive me of Your forgiveness and not pardon this helpless one whose misdeeds can only be purified by Your immense seas of mercy? No, a hundred thousand times no, of course! You never let down in disappointment those who turned to Your divine court.”

As if he remained breathless here, he groans like a heart resonating with the strike of a plectrum of awe:

“If only I could know that You included my name in the book of fortunate ones and honored me with Your closeness! If I only knew this, so that my eyes and heart too would light up with joy. O God! Do not shut Your gates of Mercy against those who know You and believe in You even only to some extent! As I hope and believe, please do not let down the hearts You have revived by letting them feel Your exalted existence into the misery of being without You—You never did so—and thus do not let us down into the fires of separation and Hell! My God! Save me, Your servant from Your displeasure and due sufferings!”

One can feel his deep concerns in the following words:

“Save me from the torment of Hell on that toughest day when good and evil will be distinguished, when people will be at their wits’ end, when souls engaged in good acts will be enraptured with the rejoice of closeness to God, when unfortunate ones who misspent their lives will shake with the grief of remoteness, and when nobody will be subjected to the slightest degree of injustice.”

With the feelings of an utterly sinful one Zayn al-Abidin sets about most heartfelt implorations. With the awareness that “two fears and two assurances” do not coexist, he passes from one petitioning to another. He constantly implores God with his open hands at the door of His Mercy and teaches those who are believers on the outside, but not in the inside, and those who are deprived of awe and reverence of God.

Read the previous article: Facing Oneself

Question: Among things Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, sought refuge from were “knowledge, hearts, prayers, and eyes” according to one specific tradition? Why did he do so? Are there types of knowledge and prayers we need to be cautious of?

It is related that the noble Messenger of God would often repeat the following prayer: “My Lord! I seek refuge in You from knowledge that is of no benefit, a heart that does not tremble in respect, from a carnal soul that is never satisfied, and from prayer that is not answered.” It is also related in another tradition that he sought refuge from calamities, diseases, and “eyes that do not well up with tears.”    

Knowledge that is of no benefit

The Qur’an says, “Is that of a donkey carrying a load of books (it transports what it does not understand)” (Al-Jumu’ah, 62:5). There are some people who wrote books, completed doctorate upon doctorate, and became “wise” men. Yet, in the words of Sadi, this newfound knowledge is largely useless and non-beneficial if they do not incorporate it into their nature and practice what they have learned.      

Nowadays, there are plenty of ignorant people with degrees. Their mouths are filled with tar and darkness from the lies, deceit, slander and misinterpretations that they spew. All of the knowledge they have learned and all of the books they have written (even if they have written about the heart and spirit of Islam) are of no use if this knowledge is not going to bring them closer to God, be their route into Paradise, and allow them to experience Divine grace.

It is important to read abundantly and to look at a wide variety of books in order to broaden our perspectives, however it is even more important to incorporate that knowledge into our daily lives. Sadi says, “If you do not believe with your knowledge, then you are the epitome of ignorance.” Such people are not only ignorant, but also are ignorant of their ignorance. All the while, some among them arrogantly assume that they are aware of everything. This is described as “triple ignorance.”

A heart that does not tremble

Secondly, the noble Prophet says, “I seek refuge from a heart that does not tremble.”

The word used in the original text is “yahsha,” which refers to a sense of reverence or awe that manifests itself in one’s actions. It is a measure that shows the depth of one’s position before God. It is acting with the consciousness of ihsan, the conviction that we are being seen by God all the time.

The Prophet says that the reverence in one’s heart manifests in that person’s outward form. If one is truly reverent to God then, it will pour out through their iris, facial expressions, hand gestures, tone of voice, and even in the ideas they put forth. Bediuzzaman Said Nursi (d. 1960) was a scholar who had the utmost reverence to God and His creation. When he used to retreat to his wooden rack on top of a tree for prayers and contemplation, he would say:

Listen to the stars, to their delightful sermon,

Listen to their message of luminous wisdom

And see what is written in their declaration

“Of all His servants, only those who possess true knowledge stand in awe of God” (Al-Fatir 35:28).             

People with deep understanding have a unique perspective. They are the ones who have engraved their knowledge into their neurons, and this tends to be reflected in all of their actions in such a way that anyone who saw them would notice the deep effects of their faith. When an observer saw such people in prostration he or she would see them in full humility for they pray in a state of “being seen by God.” Little, if any, doubt would be left unresolved with such a representation and state of being.

A carnal soul that is never satisfied

The third thing God’s Messenger sought refuge from was “a carnal soul that is never satisfied.” The Qur’an narrates the story of Korah, who serves as a primary example of a person with such a soul:

“We gave him treasures, the keys alone to which were a heavy weight for a party of strong men” (Al-Qasas, 28:76).

Korah had amassed so much wealth that even the keys to his treasure chests required ten strong men to carry them. The Prophet considered such a greedy soul to be so dangerous that he listed it after useless knowledge and a heart that does not tremble in fear.  

Prayers that are not answered

The Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him, says, “God does not accept the prayer of the heart which does not know what it wants and desires.” We really need to consider how we recite prayers and supplications from memory: are we doing praying with sincerity or without deeply reflecting upon what we are asking? A person could pray for something good such as, “O God, keep us far away from Hellfire, save us, protect us.” In regards to such a prayer, one should spend a few extra minutes pondering about our lives, try to close their eyes and imagine being in the presence of God, consider the consequences of an irresponsible life. One can even imagine themselves walking on the bridge above the fire. The All-Merciful God will not leave such a vivid seeker of protection in vain.

While praying, “Take us to Paradise along with those righteous people” one should imagine the gardens, trees, and flowers of Paradise to the extent that is humanly possible.        

Prayers are best when they come sincerely from the heart, not subconsciously and without meaning. It is as if something is raining into the hands of the people who sincerely turn to God when they pray to Him.

This is a personal experience that can be achieved through deep reflection and sincerity. There are some steps that can be followed in order to reach such a pious state.

First, God Almighty will accept your prayers and supplications when you are standing in the presence of your Lord with deep concentration, knowing that you are being seen by God and aiming to be in a state as if you are seeing God, too.

Secondly, it is important to make supplications over and over. God Almighty wants to hear the supplications of His servants and wants their prayers to be in their book of good deeds. Consequently, God gives whatever His servant desires depending on how insistent they are in their supplications.

In another tradition, the Prophet says that prayers are answered and advises believers to be patient and not say things such as, “I kept offering my supplications and prayers, but they were not accepted” out of desperation and impatience.

Surely believers will be rewarded with mercy should they remain at God’s doorstep in deep loyalty. He does not leave us completely deprived either, even if He does not give us exactly what we want when we want it.

When the Messenger of God takes refuge in God from supplications that are not accepted, he is referring to those who get weary of making prayers and supplicate with little to no sincerity. God knows best.

Bediuzzaman said the following about the severe pains he felt in his body: “I have supplicated for thirty years to be healed; my prayers have not been accepted externally, yet it has never occurred to me to abandon my prayers. Because illness is the occasion or time for prayer; to be cured is not the result of the prayer.”

Persecuted by oppressive regime, Bediuzzaman was poisoned twenty-one times when he was behind bars. It has not been recorded, or known, that Bediuzzaman ever once made prayers of revenge in his life despite all of the hardship that he endured. He was an emblem of forgiveness and grace, and this character fits monumental personages like him.

This is what we must strive to do as well. Prepare yourself to forgive those who are persecuting you. This is surely a heroic thing to do that takes much strength. Do not respond to evil with evil.

“If you have to respond to any wrong, respond (only) to the measure of the wrong done to you,             

but if you endure patiently, it is indeed better for the patient” (An-Nahl 16:126).

Jesus, peace be upon him, said that excellence in faith is not acting in kindness to those who act kindly to you; excellence in faith is to respond with kindness to those who treat you with evil.             

Be kind to the person who harms you. At least give the alms of a smile, if just a smile. Others may act like monsters, as would be expected from monsters. God has created us as humans, what befits us is to act with humanity. It is impermissible for a true believer to abandon this demeanor.

Eyes that don’t water with tears of sincerity

May God bless us with eyes filled with tears. If there is one antidote to put out the flames of Hell, it would be tears. If there is one thing to take our prayers straight to God, it is the tears we pour for God’s sake.

God’s Messenger, peace and blessings be upon him, said: “Don’t laugh too much.      It kills the heart.”

Your prayer mats should be soaked so much so that your mats speak back in their tongue of disposition, “That is enough! I have become fully soaked, that is enough.”          In the dark night, when you try to turn on the lights to the Intermediate Realm, your tears, in a way, should be like oxygen or energy. Your tears will provide light and illumination. May God make us like those who have such eyes.

December 2, 2015. A mass shooting in San Bernardino, California, following a devastating attack in Paris, France. Anti-Muslim rhetoric mushrooms, but how can I, one person, respond?

December 6, 2015. A hastily arranged interfaith service at Temple Beth Or, Washington Township, New Jersey, is attended by an overflow crowd of almost 400 people. The clergy, representing 18 congregations of the three Abrahamic faiths, walk to their seats as the Woodie Guthrie song, “This Land Is Your Land” is sung. The service gets underway with a call to prayer by a member of the Elzahara Islamic Center of Midland Park, New Jersey, and continues with additional prayers from each of the clergy. One priest from a Catholic Church in Ridgewood, New Jersey, ascends to the podium and asks everyone to take 15 minutes, introduce themselves to someone they don’t know, and “Pass the Peace.” This 15-minute interval turns into a seminal moment for me as “the other” that surrounds me becomes “the individual” – the mother, the student, the neighbor, each concerned about the same issues as I am.

This evening had a profound impact on me, and I still think of it often. It spurred me to approach my Jewish synagogue community and invite them to engage in an outreach program with representatives of the Muslim community. I had no illusions that this would solve the world’s problems, but I hoped it might be a spark to lift a veil in my tiny little corner of New Jersey. And thus began an ongoing journey to take the hand of our Muslim neighbors and turn the unknown and the different into the familiar and the friendly.

Over the ensuing years we have gathered together for various programs. We started with a Friendship Circle to introduce ourselves to one another, watched a documentary movie, BESA – The Promise, and subsequently The Turkish Passport, and discussed what we saw and heard. We invited our Muslim friends to participate in some of our synagogue services, some interfaith and some not. During one Sunday morning Minyan service, two central Jewish life cycle events took place – a baby naming for a newborn girl, and a 13-year-old leading the service one week before his Bar Mitzvah. Questions were casually asked and answered over our bagel breakfast (accompanied by both rugalach and baklava!). This turned into a tour of our sanctuary, led by our Rabbi and accompanied by a number of congregants. The Rabbi took the Torah scroll from the ark so it could be seen up close by everyone. She opened it and chanted that week’s Torah portion, which just happened to be about Hagar and Ishmael! The Rabbi along with our members explained the meaning of the various symbols around the sanctuary – how our prayer books are in both Hebrew and English, what the threads and knots (tzizit) of our prayer shawls represent, why only some of our memorial board lights were lit, etc. The otherness melted away as we engaged one another in vibrant conversation and dialogue.

One of the most moving interactions we experienced was when one of our members, a child survivor of Auschwitz and a longtime Hebrew school teacher, told her emotional story to a Muslim teen group, which left everyone with tears in their eyes. This included a question and answer session that touched everyone who participated. Our membership was invited to an Iftar dinner that year, during which we came to understand the purpose and meaning of the daytime fasting. We were recently invited to visit a local mosque, which was the first time any of us had stepped inside one. We had so many questions, and they were answered beautifully and passionately. We all sat, shoeless, in a circle, and those of us who are Jewish nodded our heads as the number of parallels between our faith practices became apparent. During Ramadan this year, our synagogue hosted an Iftar dinner. Kosher food was graciously brought into our kitchen, and three very dedicated Muslim volunteers spent several hours preparing traditional recipes for our dinner as we chatted and enjoyed each other’s company.

One by one by one, foundational connections have been made between our Jewish congregants and our Muslims friends. We have learned so much about one another: we have talked about our families, showed each other pictures of our children’s weddings, shared our families’ immigration experiences, exchanged phone numbers, and promised to see each other again soon.

The world is a complicated place, and there are no easy answers to the issues that confront us. But we each have the power to step outside our comfort zone, and just decide to take that first leap of faith. The opportunities to engage with one another in a meaningful way are all around us, and the rewards far outweigh the effort. Not only do we reap the benefits ourselves, but we have the potential opportunity to “pay it forward” by sharing our stories of these meaningful and memorable interactions, and maybe, just maybe, inspiring someone else to do the same!

As Jews, one of our overriding objectives is to participate in what is called “Tikkun Olam – Repairing the World.” This implies that while the world is inherently good, there is always room for us to improve it, and I would like to believe that I have contributed, in whatever small way, towards that end. In a world that undoubtedly is in need of a great deal of repair, please join in by taking that first small step alongside me and let us walk together.