. . . emotions base, desire consuming

The meaning that flows over from the gaze is full of contempt for the subject of God.

Akif

Very few are exempt from such a turbulent point of view; no difference remains between what is collective and what is not, between capitalism, communism and liberalism. The distance in nature-between those who attach their lives to the considerations of eating and drinking, resting, and earning money, having a good time in general, and other beings who are bound to spend their lives in a similar way due to the unchanging character of their nature-becomes smaller day by day. The basic differences between the two sides vanish into thin air one by one, and humanity seeks new directions, despite its own nature.

Religion, piety, morality, free thought, our own perceptions of art are rarely given consideration; power has become so ulcerated as to be unrecognizable, fantasy has taken on the image of lofty ideals and these disagreeable ideas are being forced upon others. Indeed, I have to say that I have a hard time understanding the inner drama of such a terrible fanaticism. Nowadays, when enlightenment has become widespread, when intellectualism is at its apex, the fact that science and ignorance seems to meet at the same spot, contrary to the distance that one would expect to exist between them, suggests a dark complicity and makes the existence of a serious problem obvious. Such a contradiction gives us the impression that the emotional will of some people is miles ahead of their intellectual and logical will.

I believe that in such a dark period, when opposites have become intertwined, when in different sections of society chaos is heaped upon chaos, when shadowy acts of different origins have darkened the face of the Earth, when what is underground reigns over what is above, when polemics and dialectics have become so popular with so many, when hearsay, especially through the use of media, is welcomed as acceptable merchandise, when we have begun to feed upon the lives of others, when the soul of unity has been shaken and different groups are scattered everywhere, when hopes are shattered and wills are paralyzed, when souls give up the fight against desire, there is a burning need to turn toward our own spiritual sphere and listen to our own inner world, to tear ourselves from the dark atmosphere of the bodily realm and sail into the magical atmosphere of a hearty and spiritual life. Those who do not fall into lethargy and return to their usual state as soon as possible will feel the magic and charm of their own inner world; the unfortunate who fail to return and remain in between, or who remain on the other side, continue to resent, hate, slander, lie, and feel contempt, they continue in the dissolution and obstinate disagreement which they have practiced until this day, and even in climates where the sun continues to shine they will dream of dark things, they will mutter dark thoughts, always seeking dark places in which to hide and dark corners in which to live.

One hopes that they would be able to feel the joy of the blessed days and nights that we experience, when showers of light reach everywhere. One hopes they too would abandon the heresy, unbelief, dissension, and sedition in their hearts and that they would be able to respect the chosen understanding and stance of every single soul! Maybe one day these wishes will be fulfilled, but the self-proclaimed enemies of God, the prophets, religion, and piety-once having breathed nothing but materialism, having gone into a frenzy denying divinity, and having plunged into the quicksand of anarchy and nihilism-will never be able to breathe this reviving air. Oh dear Lord, had you only made yourself known to them and released the chains from their hearts!

In every community and society there are people who are inclined to abandon their faith and there have been many times when such people have spun out of control; other communities and societies do not have such powerful places to seek refuge when faced by these abysses and weaknesses as we have. Indeed, they have thoughts which soothe, beliefs which reconcile, days and nights which tremble with joy, festivals and carnivals; but, these days, these nights, these festivals, these carnivals are devoid of any holiness. They are like fireworks, shining for a moment and then are gone, giving only instantaneous pleasure; they are ephemeral and physical, not promising anything in the way of spiritual joy. Indeed, in their worlds you cannot feel the greatness of faith to God, nor can you feel that souls are free from the boundaries of time and space; everything starts with a false and transitory happiness, and takes place in a delirium of flesh. All is then transformed into painful memories, regrettable dreams, and disappointed hopes, and finally everything simply disappears.

In this spiritual atmosphere where we are closely bound to God, every sound, every word, every action is felt like a nursery rhyme and listened to like a melody. These shower down upon us like the rain; we soak up the bounties of these showers. The moon changes its form every night, as if signaling particular times and happy hours, the sun moves to a new spot on the horizon at every dawn, awakening our feelings and thoughts in a new period of time, causing our dreams to follow it, presenting memories to us that resemble the river Kawthar, promised to us in Heaven. The past becomes like a veil of many colors draped before our eyes, the happy future is the apex of our dreams, waiting for us with open arms and we, who have been freed from the narrow confines of time, live the multiplicity of yesterday-today-tomorrow simultaneously and, like the angels, feel all the joys of surpassing time. It is impossible for those who are not fed from the same source, those who do not share the same feelings and thoughts, to feel and understand the holy depths or the happiness and joy like the rivers of Paradise to the same extent.

Our faith, our horizons of thought, and our manner-characteristics of the fortunate, but at the same time belonging to a little-wronged nation of the world-have become, through being formed and re-formed in the mold of the collective personality, greatly refined and adorned with universal values. The truth is that in these characteristics the holy sadness of our hearts and the enthusiasm of our souls, like water running between the rocks, are felt and heard. Indeed, those who listen to what we have to say always hear the melodies of the pain of separation voiced along with hope; they hear the notes of reunion, of the sweet and eternal search for home in our intonation and manner. Indeed, while on the one hand we murmur “Oh, cup bearer, I have burnt in the flames of love, give me a cup of water,” on the other we say “I have dipped my finger in and tasted the honey of love, give me a cup of water,” and thus we are able to turn our grief into smiles. Our tongues speak sometimes of love and sometimes of weariness; though love and weariness cause pain to others, in them we always hear, like Rumi, the poem of longing for the realm that we have left to come here. Love and weariness to us are like a plea from the tongue of the soul, stemming from a sorrowful desire for eternity. Since our beliefs and feelings take us to the magical worlds of beyond, we almost always feel sadness and joy intertwined; we hear the sounds of crying and laughing as different notes of the same melody. We respond to the troubled heaving of our breasts with smiles on our faces, as our eyes overflow with tears, our conscience takes upon a red hue with the roses of the Iram gardens.

Even though it may not be easy for every individual, our connection to God is the most natural attitude that we can adopt; our relation with Him is like a spell that transforms all the moments of our life into enthusiasm and joy. Our hearts that beat with feelings toward Him fill and re-fill with the dream of this gaze; we are able to live through the bitterest autumns in our hearts because we have the joy of spring. Our souls adopt the most enviable attitudes with instincts of particular feelings and joy that are the result of our connection with the All-Glorious One; thus transformed, they make us feel a refreshed enthusiasm, a new opening and revelation, even at moments when we are filled with sadness and grief. Pleasure or sadness, revelation or sorrow, all these emotions undergo metamorphoses in our hearts, as they beat with faith and speak to us of the most natural pleasures and the most realistic expectations. It is a fact that we, too, experience interconnected moments of ease and hardship, sweet weeks and bitter days, light and darkness which come and pass, like day and night. However, we sip the unsurpassable benevolence and joys from the hands of all these tribulations, because we have our beliefs, our connection to the Just One and our hopes! Those who do not recognize the trials and pleasures to be the product of the same will writhe in never-ending agony, while in our own atmosphere we see clearly that everything will be transformed into deep compassion. We taste a whole life, with its bitter and sweet facets like Kawthar, the blessed water of Paradise, in everything that we eat and drink, at every place that we inhabit, with all the beautifully divine discoveries of our own inner world. With all of their different wavelengths, we feel our sorrows shrink in the face of happiness, feel our pain melt away in pleasure and feel how our lives flow into glazed cisterns in a spectrum of colors. Our mortality is transformed into eternity; we exude smiles even when we cry.

In our world, the beliefs and the expectations that emerge from the heart of those beliefs are so intertwined with our lives that each chapter of our lives lends us the wings of the station of prayer and takes us to the gate of the Hereafter. It takes us there and lets our hearts drink of the beauties of heaven. In this way, we feel as if we are inhaling the scents of heaven. Even if we should let ourselves be swept along by our daily lives, the calls for prayer, songs that exalt God, the various sounds of prayer, the recitation of the names of God, those who give Him thanks, calling out His Uniqueness, letting this spill from the windows of the mosques, all draw us to their climate; they paint our souls with their hues, they give a tambour-like voice to our hearts, they make them sigh like a flute and excite them with the happiness of music. These sounds excite our souls and we are charmed by the mysteries pertaining to God, the charm of these mysteries which comes galloping from the depths of our inner world and which spreads to all our senses, this charm which tints the gardens of heaven in our thoughts and which flows past our lips like cascades of inspiration. Thus charmed, we stand awe-struck.

This charm, this recognition of the mysteries pertaining to God, reaches a higher level on the blessed days and nights when limitless abundance and bounty are showered upon us. This is true to such an extent that everything around us ascends in a state of joy, every corner takes on a spiritual hue and the excitement of our souls, aiming at metaphysical destinations, reaches its apex, or in Sufi terms, our souls reach the highest heaven of maturity. To the degree that we can hear and listen to what is all around us, we too rejoice like children who feel as if they are in the fair grounds of joy; thus we experience the happiness and joy of a feast day.

In such a world, the dawn flows into our houses from the doors and windows like an awaited guest; the evening comes into our private chambers like a lover; the night clings to us with its associations of reunion with the Confidant; and in every valley hands are raised up toward Him in prayer, ready to receive the gifts that will come from Him, assuming a state of metaphysical tension with the power of the soul, sighing, saying “Hold my hand dear Confidant, hold it, for I cannot do without You.”

In such a world, prayers roar like the booming voices of Gulbang hymns and echo like the voice and breath of the divine depths; the warm solitude of the night envelopes our souls like silk; our pulses beat with the excitement of one who has received good tidings. Perhaps some of us keep singing His praises, come rain or shine, like the nightingale that breaks its heart in an effort to express the ideal rhythm for its emotions with the most touching of sounds. In a word, everyone is humming a melody with never-ending agony and joy, never-fading love and excitement, listening to the shivering of their souls and letting others hear it, too. Everyone sighs with the fever of love and makes other people feel it. Yes, as they reflect on the excitement in their souls and the inspiration of their hearts, expressing themselves one last time, they become the mouthpiece for the feelings shared by all and they are able to speak of the hidden meanings that they want to speak of but fail to verbalize.

The horizon of living yesterday-today-tomorrow at the same time with such a degree of faith and hope, of love and recognition of the mysteries that pertain to God, gives such a depth to life that each heart in the orbit of the hereafter finds itself wrapped up in the melodious harmony of emotions and ideas and is freed from the limiting, stifling effects of matter. I believe that the strongest basis of all human relations, the purest source of all pleasures, and the fountain of all love, longing, attraction, and gravity is this faith and hope. Every disciple of the heart who attains this faith and hope can experience and feel the state of being outside of time, with the ability to sense all of its depths.

Indeed, to the extent that one can attain this view, one can feel existence in a different manner, evaluate things in a different way and melt in on oneself with the color, taste, aroma and accent of manifestations from the Eternal; these attributes pervade everything, and people can reach a second existence with a new “birth after death.” During such joyful hours, when the internal gaze is focused on that which is behind the visual scene of existence, one feels all the joys of being. One feels as if one has taken a shower in wisdom, as if one is freed from the weight of all things that are alien to one. The distant heavens shower blessings down upon these hearts, hearts thirsty for love and galloping with longing and affection; all hearts that live in fear of drying up are quenched. Celestial flowers flourish in these showers adorned with dreams!

Some of us may not be able to comprehend this state-a state which becomes a succession of struggle (to overcome the darkness with its all connotation) and dawn-of these people of faith and horizon; but all these are phenomena of the heart, soul and emotions. Living through the countless revelations of life, no one but the active heroes of the dawn and of the great strife can understand this love, enthusiasm, poetry, and music poured into our souls by the Eternal One. Those who do not understand this will not be able to understand these heroes, either. Those who remain distant to this fine and delicate life live in the darkness, while the comprehension of those who have found a position from where they can view the truth in such a way that it appears as obvious as it really is always feel this gift in all its wavelengths, sip it like the rivers of Paradise and live their earthly lives as if in Heaven.

Who knows how many more times we will speak of this never-ending pleasure and joy, in the delight of a festival, of a feast day! How ever many more times we may speak of it-the faults of the speaker’s mode of expression aside-we will still listen with pleasure and try to share it with others.

Notes

1. A place mentioned in the Qur’an (al Fajr 89:7-8), “. . . the city of ýram, with lofty pillars; the like of which were not produced in all the land.”
2. Hymns sung in the mosque in unison by the congregation .
3. The change communicated along these lines is not to be related to reincarnational notions.

For many, math is the most difficult class. Is it because of our own laziness, or is much math too abstract to comprehend? Ali Unver says, “educators who see the beauty at the center of mathematics and can make their students see it that way, are more likely to be able to get their students’ attention and teach them more effectively.” He explains in “Mathematics and the Universe” that mathematics is not only for keeping track of our checkbooks.

Mary and Jesus, peace be upon them, are the subject of a considerable amount of Islamic literature. Ahmet Cetinkaya contributes with a thesis on the question of whether Jesus had any brothers and sisters. Drawing on sources of Islamic tradition and the Bible, Cetinkaya lays out interesting information on the topic, which is also a matter of debate between some Christian denominations.

“Romania – Dar-ul Sulk” discusses how historical truths are sometimes forsaken for the sake of political interests. Victor Nitelea presents an exemplary account of the mutually beneficial centuries-long relationship between the Ottomans and Romania and how the positive image of Turks as a tolerant society was replaced by an image of barbarians. This account also explains how the school curriculum can be manipulated according to political trends at the expense of causing intolerance and conflict between East and West.

“Can I Be Your Baggage?” Barney Zwartz, a journalist from Melbourne asks Abdullah Aymaz, who spoke about the emergence of the Gulen Movement in an international conference organized by the Australian Catholic University back in July. Whose baggage did he want to be? Zwartz was referring to the educational movement started in the 1960s among a small circle of young people like Mr. Aymaz who were inspired by Fethullah Gulen. In this issue, Aymaz shares with us his observations of the conference with some flashbacks to his first encounters with Mr. Gulen and how the movement started to take shape.

This attitude usually adds to the tyrant’s courage, makes the slanderer even more impudent and the assailant more outrageous. Still, I say to myself, “They are human too, and one day they will realize it and they will give up such impertinence.” This is perhaps wishful thinking or a misapprehension, but I prefer waiting for a blissful hour when everyone will come to reason and mercy. Filled with some bizarre supernatural expectations, I endeavor to soothe my exasperation and stand firm against the storms that challenge my lenience. I sometimes dive into a deep, silent introspection to escape my own realm of feelings. There are times when I feel sorry for myself in the face of some agonizing events, and I am troubled with a passing sensation that I am perhaps disrespecting myself while trying to be respectful to everyone else. But still, in spite of so many lies, fabrications, and devilish schemes, I turn to myself and say, “You have assumed trouble as your healing from the beginning; then what is this protest for? The one with teeth will certainly bite, and the one with claws will rip through; no one can change this as long as those who consider the truth to be with the powerful continue to exist. Be tolerant to everyone.” I bury my cries inside and pronounce my feelings with silent woes.

Indeed, it is impossible for people in my circumstances who share this way of thinking with me to act otherwise. First of all, we do not submit to the wicked ones, but “to the decree of fate we wholeheartedly submit our souls” (Bâkî). Secondly, we live in a time in which people in great numbers are locked onto hostility; today’s revenge-thirsty figures overshadow in ruthlessness the abominable tyrants of the past-so, tempering the atrocities in my heart does not change the reality. Many billow with the rage of pharaohs when they speak; their hatred and violence never abate and their hunger for blaze, destruction, slaughter, and extrajudicial execution is never satisfied. They raise their swords to the heavens like He-Man and scream, “I have the power!” The world all over echoes with the chorus of “Justice, freedom, democracy, civil rights,” but justice is desperate in the hands of crude power, freedom is leashed with the straps of slavery one over another, democracy is a freak in the hands of enforcers who interpret it capriciously. There is no one left who does not understand this, but those who have conducted decades-long abuses continue singing the same tune, as if they are unaware, with no sense of self-respect, and debasing their own social status. With no other occupation, sitting in sloth, they speak on behalf of rights, freedom, and democracy, while others who violate these values in broad day light utter the same words. These are words of magic invoked to earn status and esteem, and then circumvented to legitimize corruption and fraud. Oppressors rely on them when they oppress some people while favoring whoever they favor. These are the words offered as legitimate governments around the world are interfered with and countries are invaded. “Bringing prosperity” is a pretext for shedding blood and dishonoring others. With the same excuse, murders are committed, killings are left unsolved, people are tyrannized, free speech is censored, privacy is violated, religious persuasions are harassed, unthinkable profanity and what is forbidden are replete and promoted; civil rights and justice are frequently pointed to, but are trodden down at the same time.

Nowadays, I am observing all these horrors and calamities through my narrow vision, and I mumble, “O Lord, how forbearing you are! You continue to grant respite to the perpetrators who are responsible for all this violence, oppression, and degradation of rights, freedom, and democracy. Absolute might and power belong to God.” And then I bury myself in a silence of astonishment and amazement (dahsha and hayra) , which I feel has become part of my nature. Absolute silence in the face of injustice, tyranny, and violation of rights is no different than glorifying Satan and is condemned in a Prophetic tradition. Indeed, believers never remain in absolute silence; if their hands are tied, they speak out; if they are gagged, they reveal their fervor with overflowing gestures; if they are ostracized completely from society, they expand with palpitations as if they had a volcano heaving inside. If their internal explosions could be unveiled, we would witness bolts of lightning issuing from their hearts and chill from their claps of thunder.

Their quiet stance arises from their subtle refinement and vast compassion which would not disdain even an ant, from their philosophy of security and trust, respect for human values, mercy toward everyone, and from relying on God in all matters. First and foremost, they are people of fine balance. Even when the most horrific waves of unrest beat the shores of their hearts, they behave with the utmost moderation and prudence. They never act unwisely like a child whose imagination outweighs his reason and comprehension, who blabs everything that crosses his mind without a moment’s thought, who is concerned with accountability only after destroying everything with his words and actions and seeks excuses for the destruction he has caused. They are always aware of their position, of what they do and say, and act with discretion in the balance between their hearts and minds. When they are granted the opportunity, they pronounce universal human values; when they have to remain silent, they act out these values with fervor, keep up their prayers and invocations, observe with compassion, and smile on everyone. They are never upset by their fate, nor do they complain to others as if dissatisfied with God Almighty. On the contrary, they question their own selves and seek their own faults. They bury their sorrows in their chests and do not mention them to those who are unable to comprehend; not a word of discomfort can be released from their mouths even though they may burn like an oven on the inside. They die and come back to life, but never do they disclose this to anyone.

No one can know completely what a burning mass of white-hot embers they actually are; others consider these special people no different than themselves. Yet, if their belief, demeanor, and selfless spirits that are devoted to making others live were to allow them to roar out their internal fervor, all the crows would immediately hush and look for a hidden corner to take refuge in, while all the bats would retreat back into their dark caves and descend into silent introspection. True believers are men and women of trust and security who show the utmost care in performing what their true character necessitates. They never hurt others, even though they may be hurt; nor do they cause pain, even if they are tortured.

In fact, their spiritual realm is replete with portraits of sorrow, each more horrifying than the last, that exist side by side with their feverish passion to relieve society of its ailments. Their palpitations and pains last forever with constant brainstorming and attempts at revival. The eternal verses of their hearts or, more truly, their silent cries, are a call to the light with a commitment to illumination as opposed to darkness. One line of the poem drops from their lips in grief, while the next inspires revivification. Their indignation and enthusiasm reveal signs of all this incessant internal turmoil.

Indeed, this has been the kind of life we have always sought, or perhaps we have been forced to live in this way. Fervor and sorrow have been our fate and in fact what we have also demanded. We have considered living for our own sake as selfishness, an attitude we have always abhorred. The motto “So others may live” and wishing eternal happiness for all have been our passion. This passion is so intense that if it were at all possible to come back to this life after death and we were given the right to choose, we would still prefer others’ lives to our own. The true horizons of humanity we would fix our direction towards; thoughts of revival we would breathe with; degradations we would close our eyes to; fuss about fundamentalism we would not be deceived by; those who come forward with slanders, calumnies, and accusations we would not be upset by or despair at; unrelenting violations and attacks of the severest kind we would bury in our chests; when it hurts inside, we would still manage to smile; when the magma inside erupts, we would suppress our exasperation so that no one is hurt or disturbed; and we would always display the privilege of being human.

I feel that those who think we remain in total passive silence and those who think we are involved in some kind of “activism” are all wrong. We are never absolutely still-anguish and hope, enduring everything, and striving for survival, all coexist in the depths of our souls. We may sometimes lose spirit, but never to a level of termination for good. Even if only with half of a voice or a breath, a quarter of a pain or palpitation, our hearts are like a brazier with embers always burning inside. Our faith constantly whispers new sentiments to us, and our conscience plays tunes of all kinds. Nevertheless, those who are of not the same persuasion or ideals as us cannot hear any of these melodies nor can they comprehend any of these sentiments.

Personally, every time I think of this agitation and fervor, I tremble as I visualize innocent people who have been victims of deadly imprisonment, maddening persecution, and merciless hounding, and whose words were stuck in their throats, words they wanted to utter but could not, so they were choked almost to the point of death. Who knows what beautiful things they would have said. The ignorant who did not know, even worse, those who did not know that they did not know, and the worst of all, who thought they knew even though they did not, used all available means to prevent those innocent people from expressing themselves; they would never allow them to do so, for if they did, people would understand how bereft of ideas and knowledge are those persecutors. In the words of Akif, the miserable oppressors “do not look to the East, nor are aware of the West, nor have any share of good conduct / All they have as capital is a face that cannot blush and eyes that cannot water!” If they did allow the innocent to speak up, those who can reason would comprehend all these matters and discover the true identities of some of these ignorant ones who tie justice to power and resort to despotism, whose assets are no more than yelling, and who try to catch fish in muddy water. Then, all the wretched souls who fight against common sense with dialectic and demagogy would topple one by one, their false candles would blow out, and those who have been deceived would not be tricked any more. All this would end in the collapse of those who want to rule the world with crude power, and I do not think they would ever acquiesce to that. In any case, we end up with the fact that today some people are gagged, while many others remain indifferent.

Those who cannot express themselves today in one way or another, will certainly voice their internal vibrations and pain, be it merely in their comportment; in return for their gulping down their words with palpitations today, they will recite the best poems of silence when the day comes. Who knows, perhaps then many rude and cruel characters who have forgotten true humane values like compassion, mercy, and justice for several centuries now, will unexpectedly melt down and turn into whatever being truly human demands.

So, let tyranny enjoy itself for a bit longer; let civil rights and justice be trodden on; let the innocent moan with pain; let the wronged strive to voice their grievance; and let hearts breathe with grief and fervor, hoping for a blissful hour in which the All-Powerful will speak. For us, if it is a matter of time serving our time of trial and lamentation, then, as in the words of Faik Ali, “There are songs yet unfinished / Anticipation moans in their silence,” there is still need for more quiet lament, after which perhaps the spring will rise.

When pen was created, it could not know what it would write. In this bewilderment, speech whispered its mystery and ink began to shed tears. Since then, when pen arrives at speech, it laments and ink weeps.

Had it not been for speech, we would never have been able to hear anything of eternity or understand anything of the mysteries pertaining to the All-Exalted Creator which satisfy our insight and inmost hearts. It is by means of speech that the universe has become a place of exhibition and the books coming from the Truth, serve as heralds. When speech was placed on the head of the ruler of the earth like a crown inlaid with beryl, the meaning of existence was manifested and we, human beings, became as if made of speech only.

It is speech which connects the earth with the heavens and unites the world with the Hereafter. Although its innate beauty and exalted being are not apparent of themselves, we may say that everything is indebted to speech and has its source therein.

Speech is such a standard demolishing fortress towers and such a flag conquering castles, that commanders who have not been supported by it, have not been able to conquer even a single village. Even the greatest commanders have not been able to capture the places that speech has captured, kings have not been able to obtain as much glory as it has obtained, and no mortal has been able to live as long as it. Those who have come have gone, and those who have gone have gone also from memories, whereas speech has remained ever fresh and lively, losing nothing of its value.

Those who can use speech effectively or who can write and speak effectively and eloquently are celestial nightingales. Their tongues exhilarate their friends and alarm and dispirit their enemies. The bayonets of speech they produce are sharper than the swords of warriors and more awe-inspiring than their lances. Physicians are able to heal the wounds of swords and arrows but have never been witnessed to heal the wounds opened up by words. It is the Prophets who wielded the most effective and penetrating of words and, after them, those with sincere hearts open to inspiration. Over the passage of time they have torn up the veils of darkness with their arrows of word; at times they have lit fires in hearts with the sparks of the words they have put in them; at other times they have sometimes sprinkled words like showers of mercy, changing their surrounding into gardens of Paradise.

When those birds of inspiration have taken wing, even angels have hastened to them in order to collect the pearls that have scattered from their mouths.

Those who write and speak eloquently in the way of truth are like the sun: at the cost of burning inwardly, they light up their surroundings. They may also be likened to oceans which hold the world’s vastest treasures yet are not made haughty by their wealth. They are perfectly humble among people and profoundly devoted to God and most careful of all in their relationship with Him, they scatter jewels around without needing to make any show thereby. And while they continue to produce new jewels, they do not think of themselves as having made anything worthy of praise.

They enliven minds and hearts with their precious words and enchant men and jinn, attracting those both in mosques and taverns to their jewels. Today, imprisoned within the thick walls of matter and shut off to the realms of inspiration, it seems impossible to produce the same jewels as those produced by our predecessors. Even the words of those who have some fame for their rhetoric and eloquence are feeble and lacking in the depth to hold hearts and minds. The wings of inspiration are broken and in the hearts needy of inspiration the witches of imitation have settled. For this reason we are left with nothing to do but pray to the Creator of speech to help us.

Realities mixed with imagining, we feel we are halfway to the peaceful union of the modern with the traditional, the scientific with the religious and spiritual, the reason with the heart, the experienced with the revealed, and the military power with sense, justice and right. We are travelling toward this goal and feel as if we heard lyrical melodies that harmonized the past and the future. With the hope that the day will certainly come when souls conceive of nothing but goodness and fairness, when feelings overflow with love and compassion and eyes become more generous than clouds in pouring tears of mercy, when the soil fully awakens to life and the earth becomes as safe and comfortable as a nest, when human beings compete with spiritual beings in goodness and virtue we try to meet in cheerful faith all the requirements of travelling to those horizons where we shall taste life once again as it should be.

We are hopeful because all the preparations made, the efforts exerted, and the hardships endured, are like melodies of the happy future world in whose warmth the past and the future will be embraced and the present time will unburden itself to its faithful, blessed friends, and we will sing joyful songs of the lost paradise regained.

We are hopeful because things begin to voice the wise purpose in their creation; the sun, the moon and stars begin to discourse about the past; worlds far beyond our own send smiles ahead to those expected happy days, and the preparations of a coming celebration are observed everywhere. Hoping to God that an adverse wind does not rise up to pull everything down; that space, this island of time, where souls, deeper in spirit than their actions, whose beliefs and actions are louder than their words, whose hearts and minds are set upon eternity, alight and depart, will be the island where mankind have been longing to dwell since the beginning of their worldly existence, the island which will transport them to eternity from its harbors and quays and platforms.

It is truly so. If we stir up things around us just a little, they will, as a part of history, begin to speak and sing the praises of the future. We may liken our moment in time to a clock waiting to be wound up. In appearance quite still or ‘out of order’ it is ready to work with the slight effort of winding. This moment of time too is about to move, like an athlete at the starting-pistol. Indeed, may we not say that it has already started -to be united with its roots in the past and to search for new horizons in the future. Its movement is a rhythmical one directed by wisdom and promising springtime, one after another; from it are heard sounds of profound resonance and music sublime.

The basic dynamics of this movement are belief and hope, while its future lies in Prophetic resolve to persevere without leaving room for any kind of deficiencies in reasoning or understanding or feeling. It is God, and only He, Who will produce the result, and it is an offence to Him to strike attitudes that imply that our hands determine and produce the result. If we reflect upon the present situation and the unimaginable effects of the dynamics we have from yesterday to the present, we could not help but be amazed by seeing how great rewards are given for the least of efforts. Ponder the fact that, although the values belonging to us have been unfairly chewed up between the teeth of time, still they have been able to reach the coastlines of our century and we can reachieve them as the indispensable elements of our civilization and culture. We find them still as fresh as the first day and use them as either keys with which to open the long-locked doors of hearts, or the doors of castles on the way to conveying civilization to all parts of the world, or as torches of learning with which to illuminate the world. They are still so powerful and enchanting that while some of them introduce us into the world of Ibn Khaldun or Biruni or Zahrawi or Shafi’i and Abu Hanifa, some others bring us roses from the gardens of spiritual masters like Ibrahim Adham, ‘Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani, Shah Naqhsband, Shaykh Uftada and Shaykh Ghalib, and still others take us to the evergreen summits of Iqbal, Baqi, Fuzuli, Sa’di, Nizami, Nawawi and Rumi.

With its natural environment unpolluted and in good order and harmony, its lovely towns and villages replanned and redesigned, and its population equipped with such human values and virtues as belief, love, knowledge, mutual loyalty and high morals, this world would be a place fit for joyful, sincere-hearted people to dwell in; a place where rivers of love and other sublime feelings flow; where works of the finest artistry appear side by side with those of the sciences into which religion has breathed a new life; a place where families dwell whose members are attached to one another with love, respect and compassion. Those destined to live in this world will find it a paradise-like place cleansed of all kinds of impurity and foulness, and purified of all kinds of misery and dissipation, where angelic souls fly around, and all are for each and each is for all.

This world will convey meanings from the other world, and plains and mountains will radiate peace and contentment. Emotions will be much deeper and fed by eternity. In this world whose material is woven of belief, morals, knowledge and love, life will be more beneficial and nothing wasted.

We are now on the way to this world of love, peace and vitality. Our final destination is He, the One to Whom we have devoted our hearts. We are walking toward Him along the way He has established. With our trust placed in Him and relying on His favours, our struggle is to reach Him. He will produce the result, Who never breaks His Word and always fulfils His promise. So why be hopeless? Why speak of thorns in the garden of roses?

We are servants chained at His doorway. He always makes us understand our servanthood. Our aim is to be able to perform the duty of thanksgiving for His making Himself known to us. We always seek refuge in His Court. He will surely admit those who, after long journeying, knock at the door of His Court. He will surely admit them to the final union.