“We belong to God and to God we are ever returning.”
Eternal rest grant unto him, O God
and let perpetual light shine upon him.
May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed,
through the mercy God,
rest in peace…
…and may his memory be a blessing to us all.
Amen.

My beloved sisters and brothers of Hizmet:

Al-salāmu `alaykum wa raḥmat Allāh wa barakātuhū.

May peace, and the mercy and blessings of God, be with you.

I write to you today with a heavy heart.

In solidarity with you and your families, I grieve the passing into eternity of a fellow traveler whose sojourn in time has had such a transformative effect on millions of lives around the world—our beloved Hocaefendi, M. Fethullah Gülen, may God be pleased with him and grant him mercy.

In Sūrat al-Nūr, the Holy Qur’ān beckons us to ponder the mystery of God’s unfailing and ubiquitous presence in our lives. The famous “light verse” (āyat al-nūr) offers a sublime metaphor by which it invites us to imagine God as God really is: as “the light of the heavens and the earth.”

The verse suggests that, rather than conceive of the one, true God as existing within and bound by the limits of material being, we should think of our experience of God as akin to that of the sun which—no matter the condition of our own lives and hearts—unfailingly bathes the earth from the morning prayer to the evening prayer.

We are taught that, just as the sun unceasingly illumines the physical world, God graces all existence—both the seen and unseen—with a supernal light that dispels all obscurity and gloom, enabling us to witness the stunning beauty and magnificence of God’s handiwork and to discern, however indistinctly, our own place in it.

The verse goes on to lend greater texture and depth to the metaphor by striking a breathtaking simile, telling us that God’s light is mediated and diffused in the world in a way analogous to how light is diffused in the rooms of our own earthly dwellings: from a special corner or niche (mishkāt) in which hangs a multifaceted crystalline lamp (miṣbāḥ).

When I reflect on the deep sorrow and bewilderment many of us are experiencing at the loss of Hocaefendi, I cannot help but liken it to the extinction of a treasured lamp shining in the rooms of each of our lives.

I cannot help likening our collective experience of the passing of our beloved Hocaefendi to what the Gospel tradition tells us the disciples of Jesus, peace be upon him, felt when they thought death had ripped the Christ away from them forever, or to what the Sira portrays as the grief, anxiety, and even panic of the early Umma when it seemed as if that Lamp of lamps, may God bless him and grant him peace, had finally gone on a journey from which he would never return—a panic so profound that, as tradition reports, some of his closest Companions temporarily refused to believe the news of the Prophet’s passing.

And just as that grief and sense of panic threatens to overtake me, now that Hocaefendi has embarked on that same journey back to his Creator, I am reminded of the lesson of hope and resilience each of us is called to draw from the passing of all the Prophets and Messengers of God, peace be upon them, and indeed from the passing of all the friends of God, women and men such as Hocaefendi, whose example helps illumine the paths of our own life journeys.

The lesson is that, although the lamp may no longer be there for us to see, its light remains.

This light with which we have been blessed through Hocaefendi cannot help but remain. It remains because it is essentially the eternal light of the One to whom each of us belongs and to whom each of us is returning from the day we are conceived in our mother’s womb until we take our last breath.

Even though the lamp of our beloved teacher and brother is gone, the light that shone through him endures.

It endures in the hearts of each of us who received it while he was alive.

So let us take comfort in this and at the same time let us also tremble under the yoke of responsibility that has now been placed upon us.

If our desire is to honor the memory and precious legacy of Hocaefendi, let us do what I know he would want us to do.

Let us recognize and affirm that, although the lamp of his earthly life is no longer, the light of God endures.

And let us, at the same time, quake in humble and hopeful anticipation now that the responsibility lies with each of us to be lamps in the rooms of our fellow human beings.

Let us accept the blessed taklīf (obligation) to be these lamps of service to God Almighty by tirelessly serving humanity in ways that all people, especially the poor and oppressed, may experience God’s healing, life-giving, and liberating light in the obscurity and gloom of the endless rials and tribulations of this dunyā (world).

May God be pleased with you all – Allah razī olsun.

In faith, hope, and love.

“You are a forlorn one in this world
Ergo laugh not but cry o heart!” (Yunus Emre)

Forlorn ones are only a few; a few heroes of the heart, and unknown holy ones. A forlorn person is one who sighs and groans, whose heart burns and aches. A person who is forlorn is beaten and persecuted because of the sublime truths they hold. They face trouble every day, and are threatened by all different kinds of death. They are despised and held in contempt.

Forlorn ones are not necessarily away from country or home, isolated from friends and companions. Forlorn ones are the ones whose societies do not understand them. They are considered odd and scrutinized by those around them. A forlorn one’s supreme ideals and transcendent thoughts are considered strange. They contradict the rules of their society through their willingness to sacrifice personal yearnings for communal good.

The masses forlorn ones run to help persecute them, sometimes exile them, sometimes throw them into prison, and sometimes even threaten them with death. The forlorn ones, however, grapple with these threats every moment, and live to rescue other victims. At times, they challenge dangers like Heraclites. When they can, they rush to put out fires; at the very least they moan like caring mothers. Society never tires of cruelty, and forlorn ones never tire of loyalty!

Mostly, forlorn ones feel alone and separated from their society on material terms, because they cannot establish a permanent dialogue with them. Nevertheless, a feeling of altruism and the thought of living for the sake of others takes over a forlorn one’s entire spirit. This feeling is deep and multidimensional enough to make them forget their separation and loneliness. Despite the fact that they might moan with a feeling of loneliness for a moment, they can be happy and elated with the idealist worlds established in their souls.

Forlorn ones are like the early spring grass. These flowers of the dawn face snow and ice. They undertake a sublime fight against blizzards and thunderstorms, occasionally finding reprieve from the snow and ice.

Yes, forlorn ones running to the light with a thousand joyous shouts in the realms beyond the heavens are just like the snowdrops, showing off under the sun, their dimples and white muslins rising from multicolored snow. They appear before heat warms the land, before the ices melt. Their survival is a hard one; they grapple with hazards defying them, are injured and torn, are devastated and destroyed without even experiencing a breeze of the earthly joys. They go, but their going is brave. They do not go under the earth without a few hyacinths. They die once, but revive twenty times.

Every day, forlorn ones, with a dozen of the most sacred thoughts in their hearts and minds, stand on the gate of society to offer life to the dead ones, and to return the values they lost. They knock on the door a few times, cry out the inspirations of their soul, and then turn back. They are roughed up, scolded and exiled; but they never fear, they never grow tired, and they especially never resent. They always keep their eyes on the spiritual realms and expect tidings of revival every time the sun rises and sets. They are freshly enthusiastic every new day, rushing to every corner to assume responsibilities, and to show the masses the path to Khidr fountain.

Those who understand and sympathize with them achieve eternal existence. Those left apart fade away forever. They have united with Archangel Gabriel and met Khidr fifty times; as the dirt on their feet becomes an elixir of life, the earth beneath them grows very green.

Disbeliefs, heresies, and misguidance melt away like ice under their warm breath, and it is their breath that turns arid places into gardens of paradise.

They always suffer. They are disappointed and bent over double in the face of the varying emotions and thoughts and deteriorating customs of the society that raised them. Nevertheless, they are also faithful, hopeful, and marvelously motivated. Occasionally, they are left alone and unattended, and are insulted by society. Yet, they are always joyful and in peace.

No familiar face like it is empty everywhere;

Roads are curly and slopes are steep:

Suffering, agony; cry, groan and there is the path!

How sweet is this path despite everything, and how pleasant it is to be forlorn!

All sorts of sorrow and sadness are apparent in the broken hearts and misty looks of the forlorn ones. With their groans and sighs, they remind us, respectively, of Prophet Adam and Prophet David, peace be upon them. Because they are reproached and are far away from home, they say, “Now that I am left apart from the beautiful ones, I say woe, my longing!” They groan, and yearningly await the moment of reunion, the moment when they will become a constant companion with the Beloved One. They wait, and reach a distinct union and zeal in every moment with the winds blowing from the city of mercy to the longing hearts. And if they find familiar hearts to discharge the intuitions of their spirit into, they let themselves go, turning into a waterfall. The forlorn ones never demonstrate sorrow, even if their wealth is looted and their family perishes on this path they took with love. As they see that the light they’ve spread amongst the spirit of their people is shining, the forlorn ones soar to infinity singing “O friend!” with the delight of the heavens!

A thousand heralds of good news to the forlorn ones! A thousand glad tidings to those breathing hope and fulfillment, forgetting their personal pleasures and tastes for the welfare and happiness of the public in a period of anarchy and turmoil that terrorizes everyone!

And there are also forlorn ones – in other words, the poor in character – who become estranged from their own people and their own culture in their own country, and they are very similar to the former ones with their sorrow and misery. But they are slovenly, wretched, hopeless and unenlightened. More than anything, they are lackluster and debilitated in their heartfelt and spiritual lives. Their days are darker than their nights; their nights remind of the grave. These miserable ones, their spirits torn by numerous paradoxes and deprived of a root and a personality, almost forget what it is like to be human. Questions arising from their minds and afflicting their souls make it impossible for them to benefit from the joys of this life – in fact making it even more miserable. They are dark inside; their thoughts are foggy; their eyes are misty. The questions they endlessly puzzle over remind us of one stuck in hell. Would you call this experience a “life”? But because they think of death as final, they have no choice but to prefer this life comprised only of hesitation and doubt.

For them, life is torment; being a human is another misfortune; death is a maelstrom, a black hole; existence is chaos, and the only way to avoid pain is intoxication.

How unfortunate this way of thinking is and those miserable ones are! Have pity on these kinds of forlorn ones!

It was on one of these sunny days that I had a guest. He was a generous young man. Soon after he came nearby, he served his blood to the mosquitos. Considering all the things humans pick from nature, their blood is the fruit that nature can pick in return, right? Anyway, the reason that I called this guest generous is that he did not kill the mosquitos while they were sucking his blood. He sat near me, and started pondering over the nice valley below. I didn’t know at first if I should talk to him. The snail creeping on me preferred to keep silent too. So I decided not to speak to him.

Soon after, a friend of this young man arrived. They started talking about finding water here. I thought “How do you think water can be found at this height of the hill?” But they started digging with the special equipments they had. I had heard about these things when a group of students had come on a field trip. They talked about the different kinds of rocks and the minerals in them, their story of formation through the depths of the earth or under deep water, and how one could find invaluable fluids by digging through them. Seeing these two young men, I better understood what they meant.

Anyway, after a few hours of extreme noise, I felt the wetness that touched me from below. The water was indeed rising in the well the two young men had made, and soon they were screaming from joy. As they indulged in their celebration, I was engulfed by that uncomfortable feeling I had when they’d arrived. After all, this was my place, and they had invaded it.

As if this invasion wasn’t enough, the man who had arrived first stepped on me and spread a cloth. I was enraged at the thought of this man celebrating his victory over me. But my rage stumbled upon what I saw as I watched him. He started offering thanks and praying. It was then that a sense of warmth seeped between us, and I began talking to him everytime he came. During his visits, he used to drink some fresh water, sit on me looking towards the valley, and delve into reflections and prayers. I thanked God for giving me this flat surface so that someone could pray on me. Our relationship became so special that when he was not around, I used to pray for his return.

Years passed by. Things didn’t change much with me, but the man changed a lot. His once smooth face now looked like the wavy ocean surface. His body was bent like trees on steep hills. Things were changing incredibly fast for humans. I felt pity for this man who was troubled by his daily affairs. I prayed that I could be closer to him to help relieve his pains. My prayers were accepted and this respectable man spent more and more time on me. Sometimes lying, sometimes sitting, but always contemplating or praying.

At times, he brought his grandchildren. These kids did not enjoy being here as much as their grandfather. They constantly kept looking at the glasses in their hands that entertained them. But sometimes, they had funny talks with their grandfather. For example, this one time they talked about putting the stones in water or burrying them in the soil so that they can grow like plants. When I heard those words, I thought about my genesis through the ocean beds and the inferno compartments in the earth. My life story was so naively and elegantly put into those few words of the children. It is curious how the little ones can formulize complex things so easily.

Those times of amusement used to make me think about myself. I was a mature rock, and I wanted to have youngsters around me. I prayed to have little ones that were eager to “rock ‘n’ roll.” But perhaps those little ones would not show up as soon as they did for the humans, and they would not be as rambunctious as their human peers. Anyway, with my innate desire, I kept praying to have them around.

Strange enough, my prayers were answered sooner than I thought, and I started seeing these little pebbles parting from me. In my maturity, I had the blessing of giving birth to children all around me. Now, whenever the old man came with his grandchildren, they played with mine, and that gave me immense pleasure.

At last one day, I saw a group of people coming near by with a wooden box on their shoulders. Yes, that was him, brought to meet his Lord… He was burried in the cemetery at the peak of the hill.

…

You know, it’s not easy to lose someone you love. It’s feels like burying a part of your heart before you actually die. I cried a lot, and I still do, silently, in my own way. I don’t want my sorrow to assume the form of a complaint against the decree of our Lord. Yet, I cry nonetheless. Maybe this grief is what has made me so weak nowadays. I am feeling that my end is near, too. The increasing number of little ones all around is making this message impossible to ignore. But at the same time, I am developing a hope of continuity; because the water that is springing under me penetrates into my pores, and water means life.

However, the peace that comes with this hope is always followed by the grief of losing my friend, and I am crying all my water out. To quench my sorrow, God sent me lots of people. They are all around, now that my tears are making a waterfall. But I’d rather have my friend pray on me than these people laugh with negligence at my sorrow. “Oh my Lord, my friend in the heavens… Oh my Lord, my friend in the heavens…”

Dancing in the enchantment of Your love,

Like a moth, the world is rushing to meet You,

I wish I could reach You, even if only once it may be.

I await, on the horizon of my hopes, the rise of the moon,

Your hands caressing my anguish-burned face,

You opened to me the sanctuary in Your presence,

May the torment of these painful days conclude soon.

My heart is hungry for Your eternal love,

My life-long palpitations will not ease otherwise,

Nor can my bosom sing in its finest voice.

Would my lips move without You in my heart?

Come and clear the face of my night of sorrow,

Make my troubled bosom happy with Your compliments,

Satisfy with Your love my endlessly searching soul,

Appear in my heart, declaring it Your home…

This sadness will continue until the journey through the intermediate world of the grave (‘Alem al-Barzakh) is completed, safe and sound, and the believer flies to the abode of eternal happiness and blessing without being detained by the Supreme Tribunal in the Hereafter. A believer’s sorrows will never stop until the meaning of: Praise be to God, Who has put grief away from us. Surely our Lord is All-Forgiving, Bountiful (35:34) becomes manifest.

Sorrow or sadness arises from an individual’s perception of what it means to be human, and grows in proportion to the degree of insight and discernment possessed by one who is conscious of his or her humanity. It is a necessary, significant dynamic that causes a believer to turn constantly to the Almighty and, perceiving the realities that cause sadness, seek refuge in Him and appeal to Him for help whenever he or she is helpless.

A believer aspires to very precious and valuable things, such as God’s pleasure and eternal happiness, and therefore seeks to do a “very profitable business” with limited means in a short span of time (his or her life). The sorrows a believer experiences due to illness and pain, as well as various afflictions and misfortunes, resemble an effective medicine that wipes away one’s sins and enables the eternalization of what is temporary, as well as the expansion of one’s “drop-like” merit into an ocean. It can be said that a believer whose life has been spent in continuous sadness resembles, to a certain degree, the Prophets, for they also spent their lives in this state. How meaningful it is that the glory of mankind, upon him be peace and blessings, who spent his life in sorrow, is rightly described as “the Prophet of Sorrow” by Necip Fazil, the famous Turkish poet and writer.

Sadness protects a believer’s heart and feelings from rust and decay, and compels him or her to concentrate on the inner world and on how to make progress along the way. It helps the traveler on the path of perfection to attain the rank of a pure spiritual life that another traveler cannot attain even after several forty-day periods of repentance and austerity. The Almighty considers the heart, not outward appearance or form. Among people’s hearts, He considers the sad and broken ones and honors their owners with His presence, as stated in a narration: I am near those with broken hearts.1

Sufyan ibn Uyayna says: God sometimes has mercy on a whole nation because of the weeping of a sad, broken-hearted one.2 This is so because sorrow arises in a sincere heart, and among the acts making one near to God, sadness or sorrow is the least vulnerable to being clouded by ostentation or one’s desire to be praised. Part of every bounty and blessing of God is assigned to those who need it to purify that bounty or blessing of certain impurities. That part is called zakat, which literally means “to cleanse” or “to increase,” for it cleanses one’s belongings of those impurities that entered them while they were being earned or used, and causes them to increase as a blessing of God. Sadness or sorrow fulfills a similar role, for it is like the part in one’s mind or conscience that purifies and then maintains this purity and cleanliness.

It is narrated in the Torah that when God loves His servant, He fills his or her heart with the feeling of weeping; if He dislikes and gets angry with another, He fills his or her heart with a desire for amusement and play. Bishr al-Khafi says: Sadness or sorrow is like a ruler. When it settles in a place, it does not allow others to reside there.3 A country with no ruler is in a state of confusion and disorder; a heart feeling no sorrow is ruined.

Was the one with the most sound and prosperous heart, upon him be peace and blessings, not always mournful and deep in thought? Prophet Jacob, upon him be peace, “climbed and went beyond the mountains” between him and his beloved son, Prophet Joseph, upon him be peace, on the wings of sorrow and witnessed the realization of a pleasing dream. The sighs of a sorrowful heart are regarded as having the same value and merit as the habitual recitations and remembrance of those who regularly and frequently worship God and the devotion and piety of ascetics who abstain from sin.

The truthful and confirmed one, upon him be peace and blessings, says that grief arising from worldly misfortune causes sins to be forgiven.4 Based on this statement, one can see how valuable and meritorious are the sorrows that arise from one’s sins, from the fear and love of God, and that pertain to the Hereafter. Some feel sorrow because they do not perform their duties of worship as perfectly as they should. They are ordinary believers. Others, who are among the distinguished, are sad because they are drawn toward that which is other than God. Still others feel sad because, while they feel themselves to be always in God’s presence and never forget Him, they also are spending time among people in order to guide them to the Truth. They tremble with fear that they may upset the balance between always being with God and being in the company of people. These are the purified ones who are responsible for guiding the people.

The first Prophet, Adam, upon him be peace, was the father of humanity and Prophets, and also the father of sorrow. He began his worldly life with sorrow: the fall from Paradise, Paradise lost, separation from God, and, thereafter, the heavy responsibility of Prophethood. He sighed with sorrow throughout his life. Prophet Noah, upon him be peace, found himself enveloped by sorrow when he became a Prophet. The waves of sorrow coming from the absolute unbelief of his people and their impending chastisement by God appeared in his chest as the waves of oceans. A day came, and those waves caused oceans to swell so high that they covered mountains and caused the earth to sink in grief. Prophet Noah became the Prophet of the Flood.

Prophet Abraham, upon him be peace, was as though programmed according to sorrow: sorrow arising from his struggle with Nimrod, being thrown into the fire and living always surrounded by “fires,” leaving his wife and son in a desolate valley, being ordered to sacrifice his son, and many other sacred sorrows pertaining to the inner dimensions of reality and meanings of events. All of the other Prophets, such as Moses, David, Solomon, Zachariah, John the Baptist, and Jesus, upon them be peace, experienced life as a series or assemblage of sorrows, and lived it enveloped with sorrow. The Greatest of the Prophets and his followers tasted the greatest sorrows.

Notes

1. Al-‘Ajluni, Kashf al-Khafa’, 1:203.
2. Al-Qushayri, Al-Risala,139.
3. Ibid., 138.
4. Nur al-Din Abu al-Hasan al-Haythami, Majma‘ al-Zawa’id wa Manba‘ al Fawa’id, 9 vols. (Beirut, 1967), 4:63.

South-east Asia was hit by such a giant wave just before the New Year. A calamity that was fatal; an earthquake followed by a tsunami that abated only after leaving behind a death toll of 300,000. Like all past calamities, this tsunami also brought to doubting minds suspicions that lead to a denial of the existence of All-Merciful God. “A Nursi Reader” provides insights for us on how to approach disasters and events that are apparently “evil,” basing the argument on a critical question: is the creation of evil evil?

Perhaps in a disaster in which people can do nothing but surrender to their imminent destiny; but at other troubled times there is only one bosom upon which we can rest our heads-that of our mother. A man came to Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, and said, “O the Messenger of God! Who is more entitled to be treated with the best companionship by me?” The Prophet said, “Your mother.” The man said. “Who is next?” The Prophet said, “Your mother.” The man further said, “Who is next?” The Prophet said, “Your mother.” The man asked for the fourth time, “Who is next?” The Prophet said, “Your father.”

In another tradition the Prophet is reported to have said, “God has forbidden you to be undutiful to your mothers, to withhold (what you should give) or demand (what you do not deserve), and to bury your daughters alive. And God has disliked that you talk too much about others, ask too many questions (in religion), or waste your property.” As clearly seen in the tradition the Prophet lists improper manners to our mothers along with such atrocities as “burying daughters alive.” The lead article in this issue is a reference for us to frequently turn to in order to appreciate and re-appreciate the value of our mothers.

Full of mysteries, joys, and sorrows, life for humanity starts in the wombs of our mothers (this alone should suffice for the lifetime of thanks that we need to offer to them). But when exactly does life start for a yet unborn baby? Olgun Hasgul presents a comprehensive embryological study, guided by Qur’anic teaching in “Ensoulment: When Does Human Life Begin?”

Reaction to Sin

One’s reaction to a sin that he or she has committed is closely related to one’s moral and spiritual situation. There may be an instance in which, because of a sin, you prostrate yourself before God and implore Him to forgive you. There may also be a case when such actions do not satisfy you, when your sorrow lights an internal fire in your heart. But we can hope that the sorrow disturbing your heart in the name of repentance may be more acceptable to God.

Repentance is indeed regret and an internal fever. In this respect, one should regard sins as being in the company of serpents and poisonous centipedes. Only such a firm attitude is acceptable from a believer, for any contrary one implies doubts about the outcomes of a sin in the Hereafter. Therefore, it is essential that every sin be confronted in an alert manner and, if committed, be succeeded by regret. 

Sins Must Be Short-Lived

Since every sin engenders a new sin, whenever a person commits a sin, he or she must seek purification without delay. After all, no one knows when he or she will pass away. Those who are conscious of God cannot be at ease until they have cleansed themselves from sin. It is detrimental to a person’s spiritual well-being if he or she allows a sin to survive for even one second. Moreover, such an attitude implies revering something that God does not like. Sins do not have the right to live. They must be ephemeral, because if they are not removed through repentance they become serpents constantly biting one’s heart. And once the heart gets a stain, it is easier to get more. The end result is a vicious circle. Every sin engenders a new sin and, at last, bal rana ‘ala qulubihim (83:14, trans. “Indeed, on their hearts is the stain of the (ill) that they do”) becomes evident on them.

For this reason, it is very important to remind people of these realities and alert them to sins. Moreover, if you can do so, you must reveal the ugly nature of sin to people and make them renounce their sins.

Apparently, sensitive and alert souls can smell the offensive odor that sins exude.

Sins Must Be Regarded as Detestable

When repenting, one of the most important things is to view the particular sin as something detestable and disgusting. If we do not abstain from sins, believing that they are like being with serpents and scorpions and therefore deserve our disgust, we will not have the resolve to struggle against them through repentance. When you break a priceless crystal vase, for example, you feel sorrow. In the same way, every sin you commit cracks and dirties your life lantern. Thus it is necessary to feel regret and sorrow after each sin, at least to the degree of sorrow felt after breaking a crystal vase. Otherwise, you are not taking your sins and your repenta nce seriously. 

The Correspondence between Sin and Repentance

One’s repentance for a given sin must match the sin’s degree of seriousness, for every sin resembles a well filled with pitch. In other words, it is easy to fall into but very hard to get out of (83:14).

Recognizing Sin

If we belittle the outcomes of a sin, we are committing another sin equivalent to the first one. For instance, if one considers fornication or violation of another’s property rights as sins exaggerated by religion and says that “we benefit from them, so why consider them sins?,” he or she is committing an even bigger sin. Thus, we have to resist sins and condition ourselves in this way: “O sins, the doors of my heart are locked, so your zeal to get into my heart is in vain.”

The simile of the great scholar Bediuzzaman Said Nursi is very expressive: “Run away from a sin as if it is a poisonous serpent or a centipede.” Note that he likens sin to a serpent and a centipede, rather than a lion or a tiger. One can take measures before a lion or a tiger attacks, forthey attack bravely, whereas a serpent and a centipede attacks unexpectedly and maliciously. Backstabbing and treachery may be considered examples of such sins.

In short, vigilance against sins must be an attribute of a true believer. We have to keep in mind that vigilance against sins is an indication of our loyalty and fidelity to our Lord, the Almighty.

To realize the true nature of sins, we can look from the point of view of holy saying of Prophet Muhammad: Eznebe ‘abdi zenben…,which is about a servant of God who sins and then repents. In this saying, the words used have a very deep meaning: zenb (sin) and zeneb (tail) come from the same root in Arabic. Thus, a believer who says: “O my Lord, I have committed a sin,” means to say: “O my Lord, I have put on a tail again. In my present state, You may consider me a fox with a furry tail, a scorpion stinging others with its tail, or a serpent whose tail is a long part of its body! And that is me!” In other words, those who confess their sins in reality confess that they have scorned and belittled the humanity granted to them by God and, as a result, have fallen to the level of the animals.

As for the one who sins and is unaware of it, he or she is a mirror of ula’ika ka al- an’am bal hum adallu (7:179, trans. “They are like cattle; no, they are even more astray”) and has fallen to a level below the animals. As a matter of fact, the results of a survey conducted among Western youth prove this point, thus showing that every system and path other than reality and truth takes people to destinations other than truth.

Grief of separation consumes the lover, and yet

even in gloomiest hours, he never despairs of ‘spring’;

journeying from desert to desert amid bitter tears

in ever-constant hope of the union he desires.

He weeps from deep within a heart like embers,

always alert and on the move as if chasing gazelle,

drunk upon hope of the beloved who eludes him

and whom he finds again in his nightly dreams.

Phantoms of anxiety beset his spirit, on his face

now joy shines like sunrise, now sunset gloom;

at times the door is ajar on a far landscape just

perceptible, it’s colours and tones hinting Paradise.

A moment comes when despair overwhelms and hope

seems unrecoverable, and then another when dawn breaks

in perfumed brightness. At times he withers like leaves,

melts like candles, and his sobbing his heard from afar.

Even then, in never-ending autumn, the root of his desire

flowers in hope, he transforms the grief of separation

into longing music, makes deepest wells of sorrow

brim with joy, celebrating the immortality of Love.

In the deep wells of his eyes a meaning settles

from the eternal life and is present in his looks and smile;

his feelings sound the depths of eternity, then flow out

like soil-enriching river floods or fertile winds.

Whoever truly loves understands love is everything;

that it may be either fatal poison or elixir of life;

but whoever loves the Truth and pursues the ways

to the Eternal Being knows it as inspiration, as life.

***