Feeling and understanding the future with its own particular profundities, even if it seems only a fancy at present, is a reality, albeit one nurtured with belief, hope, resolve, and determination. The most salient characteristic of this reality of our dreams is perhaps the return of the calm, contentment, and tranquility that we have let slip through our fingers over the past several centuries. I have referred to these collectively as “the salient characteristic of the future,” for they are the most sough-after in our day. In our society which is riddled by the clamor of engines, torn by the sound of car horns, splintered by the screams of media, and cowering beneath the sound of gunshots amidst the yelling of murderers and the suffering of victims, the feeling which perpetually makes itself most keenly felt in the tenderness of our bosoms is this lost peace, tranquility, and repose. For years on end, we savor the moments of our wishes and dreams to unite with what we lost, inhale them like beautiful aromas, and relish them like music.

I am of the opinion that almost everyone nourished from the same source is awaiting such a time of calm which at times can even be more healing than music. Such a favor would be as blissful as entering the Garden, and although it may look impossible in our day, I have no doubt that in the future this – by God’s will and leave – will be our natural and constant climate. For some who are looking from the dark atmosphere of our day, such a future is nothing more than a reverie – and yet when such a future comes, they will be imbibing that tranquility, but will fail to appreciate it. Who knows, perhaps they will even continue to see and think of darkness and be forever haunted by the demons of their inner worlds.

In effect, dreaming or even feeling of a world of calmness and peace is contingent somewhat upon our pulling away from the atmosphere engulfing us – the noise and din, the hatred and hostility, the blood and pus and tears. With respect to our present situation, so deprived are we of that tranquility, security, and stillness that it is not possible for us to feel it without having spent a few months of the year in a grove, a cove, or on an ocean liner in the middle of the ocean. Moreover, sometimes even such seclusion is not enough to remind us of true serenity. It seems to me that in order to feel it completely, and thus yearn for it, we are in need of more serious seclusion within environments that enthuse and give flight to our conceptions of humanity.

Such otherworldly tranquility and security prevailed for years on end in our society: mornings with their sleepy vivacity akin to white buds coming into bloom; forenoons with their passion for work wherein a frantic activity and hustle and bustle was felt; evenings with their festive air in our homes that were cozier, balmier, and livelier than bird’s nests; and nights each a stream of Divine inspirations effervescing with the feeling and fervor of infinity. In short, every moment cascaded with an overpowering tranquility and repose, carrying unique color, taste, and accent.

In point of fact, we also had a great many deficient, flawed aspects that were in disrepair; nevertheless, every unit of life – village, town, and city; female and male; young and elderly; intelligentsia and the masses – displayed the semblance of being sectors of a society devoted to tranquility and promising security. No confused clamor, no aimless screams, no crazy thrills ruined or were able to ruin our ode of eternal serenity; no alien voice could penetrate the atmosphere of its serene world, and delicate breezes of peace smelling of communal spirit were felt all around.

Reliving the dreamy days of the past will be possible to the extent that we live up to the tranquility and sense of security inherited from our past; I am very hopeful about this. At that happy time of the future, I believe there will be neither collision nor quarrel between the different segments of society. Nor will there be the uproar of the oppressor or the wails and cries of the oppressed. There will not be screams defiling our spirits, or weeping penetrating into hearts, or blood, pus, and tears. Nor indeed will there be the terror and anarchy that presently stifles society. Subsequently assuming such a fabled state, we will then experience a stage of tranquility and repose with the rays of love and acceptance coming from beyond the heavens and pouring into our hearts.

On that day, hatred and enmity will be silenced, or at the very least they will trail off into the distance. An otherworldly joy will permeate our hearts from every scene we behold, every sound that we hear, and all creation will be felt and experienced with the elation of music. In the shadow of the beauties enveloping our entire being, we will see the good side of everything. We will contemplate the good, practice the good, and interpret everything in accordance with the goodness of our inner world. We will do so by drawing upon all the advantages of being a believer and thus design our temporary lives according to the everlasting. Who knows, perhaps we will proclaim to our spirits exceedingly intimate meanings unbound with sound and speech, and which words cannot express. Filled with pleasure in our souls, we will attain a mysterious time and atmosphere, hued with the profundities of our true humanity, and will be able to appreciate and perceive all human beings, and even all creation. Closing ourselves off completely to offensive words and displays arising from human nature, we will make our lives a symphony of delight, as though we were walking in the corridors of Paradise. This tranquility and repose were already present in every part of the culture we have inherited from our past, and it constitutes an important dimension of our character.

There have been certain values and achievements that were unique to each period in history and upon which that period saw a certain advancement. Each of these values, achievements, the way possessors of these values understood the creation, and their diverse interpretations that brought depth to the meanings, have a distinct immensity of delight and a unique taste with a sweet memory permeating our spirits—we feel and experience all of these in their entirety. And it is our belief that we will feel and experience these in the future that will come to fruition. We have a firm conviction that our spirits will overflow with tranquility and repose anew, our hearts will open to the realities beyond material existence, and that naked truths will surpass causes and whisper to us more than they have ever done before.

In a very near future, virtually everyone will run to tranquility, security, and repose more than to anything else they seek. They will breathe these far and wide, and compose their innermost melodies around them, for since the beginning of their worldly existence, humankind has managed to survive every kind of deprivation, and yet never could do without tranquility, security, and love. It is not possible for human beings, who are growing increasingly interdependent, to remain indifferent to this, in a world entering the threshold of globalization.

In any event, these thoughts and feelings have already taken root in the souls of some among us to such a degree that I entertain not even the slightest doubt as to the coming years serving as their seedbed. These meanings have been embroidered in our hearts in such a way that even today we have begun to experience them as a taste upon our tongues and a sensation within our hearts. What we now feel as hope and excitement will presumably, by pouring forth upon us directives pertaining to our future life, turn the hills of our heart into golden pastures wherein love, affection, and acceptance flourish.

No concept is more central to Islam than the concept of peace. From our origins, to how we are to live in this world, to our return to Allah – every milestone in the life of man is associated, in the Qur’an, with peace.

Peace is rooted in humanity’s very beginnings. In the Qur’an, the place humanity’s soul-forms originate is referred to as Daarus-Salaam, the house of peace: “And Allah calls you to dwell in the house of peace” (Yunus, 25).

The place where the first human was born is the garden: “And we said ‘O Adam, dwell, you and your wife in the garden’” (Baqara, 35). And a garden, above all else, evokes the quality and fragrance of peace.

In fact, even the name of our faith, which Allah has chosen for us, is related to peace: “… and I have chosen for you Islam, as a religion (Ma’idah, 3). Literally, Islam means the way to peace. Not the way of peace, but the way to peace, denoting the idea of action and effort, through which humanity enters into the fullness of its being.

Additionally, the name Muslims, which we have received from the prophet Ibrahim (peace be upon him), means “one who enters into peace”; one who enters into a covenant with peace:

This is the way of your father Abraham. God named you Muslims previously… (Hajj, 78)

Allah describes His guidance in the Qur’an as “pathways”; if humans follow them, they will be led to peace:  

“…by it (the Qur’an), Allah guides those who seek His pleasure, along the pathways of peace” (Ma’idah, 16).

This state of peace we enter into as Muslims is one we are asked to maintain, even under the direst of circumstances, such as being provoked to anger: “And the servants of the Merciful are those who walk on the earth with humility, and when provoked to anger by the ignorant, respond with peace” (Furqan, 63).

The first sentence of the first sermon of the Prophet Muhammad, delivered when he first arrived in Medina, was: “O people, spread peace among yourselves” (Sahih Muslim). And we are told in the Qur’an that as the righteous meet Allah, their greeting will be: peace (Ahzab, 44).

Allah gifted humans with the heavenly experience of the garden before sending them down to earth with the mission of re-creating the experience of the garden, transforming the forest of the earth into a garden where all of creation can commune with, and be in, peace.

Chestnut Camp Retreat Center, the 25-acre complex where Mr. Fethullah Gülen has lived since 1999, is nestled in the Poconos mountains of rural Pennsylvania. It reminds one of a large garden, evoking peace, quiet, solitude, and serenity.

I recently visited Mr. Gülen at this camp. As we arrived at night, the “garden” was bathed in the serene light of the moon, beautiful and soft, inviting and welcoming. My first thought was, “this is a place where one can really be alone with God.” My second thought was, “this is the place the 19th century English poet John Clare was searching and longing for in his poem, “I Am”:

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil’d or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below, above the vaulted sky.

My first day at the retreat was split between two delights dear to my heart, prayer and solitary meditation. We rose for the 4 am group tahajjud prayer, which was both a surprise and a joy. Islam mourns the loss of this beautiful practice.

May this example spread, and may it remind Muslims that it was through this very practice that Allah promised our beloved Messenger the loftiest and most exalted of stations, Maqaman Mahmudaa, the station of praise and glory to intercede for humanity on the Day of Resurrection (Bukhari Vol. 6, 242): “And at night (O Prophet), rise up and offer the tahajjud prayer. It may be, that through it, Allah will raise you to the station of praise and glory” (Isra, 79).

It is the flame of this blessed practice, pregnant with unfathomable divine blessings for individuals as well as for the Ummah, that Mr. Gülen, affectionately called Hocaefendi (beloved teacher) by his students, has kept burning.

The tahajjud prayer was followed by a time of private meditation, quiet reflection, and reading of the Qur’an until the time for the Fajr prayer which was offered in congregation. After this prayer and the heart-felt remembrance of Allah which followed it, we retreated to our rooms. I later left a note for a fellow traveler in which I wrote: “This place is an alarm clock for the soul.”

At Chestnut, it often felt like time stood still. The peace and serenity of the surroundings, the fragrance of the trees and the soil awakened to life by the early morning mist … all of this filled the awakened heart with tranquil awe and returned me back to my Lord. Standing outside and watching the birds claim the trees of their choosing, I remembered the words of George Bernard Shaw: “The best place to seek God is in a garden. You can dig for Him there.”

This atmosphere of serenity and peace was even more palpable when, following the Maghrib prayer, I was received by Mr. Gülen.

He sat peacefully, like a man from another time. As I walked towards him, he slowly rose to his feet to greet me. We shook hands, quietly. It was a meeting of hearts in the house of the holiness of silence. I was immediately struck by the strong feeling of the pervasive presence of God in the room.

Fazkuruni, Azkurkum – Remember Me (O human being) and I will remember you. (Baqara 152)

Remember me in your thoughts, words and deeds, Allah says to humanity and, as a result, I will fill you and our space with the mystery of my presence.

After greeting Mr. Gülen, we both sat down; for a brief moment the whole room, and all the people in it, fell still and into a comfortable silence.

Stillness fills us with the presence of God. And the presence of God calms the soul and gives it quiet and peace.

Mr. Gülen welcomed me and, through a translator, spoke of being aware of and appreciating the letters I had written to defend him as well as the Hizmet schools in Senegal. I spoke to him of the significance of his words and actions as models and examples for the Islam of our time and place. He spoke softly and slowly, his words born between two silences. Aisha (RA), the wife of prophet Muhammad, said of him that he was the most silent of people (asmatan-nas) and that “he spoke so slowly and so deliberately that you could count his words, if you wanted to” (Sahih Muslim).

In all of Mr. Gülen’s classes which I attended that day and the one following, he never wavered from that state of peaceful bliss and serenity. I felt that I, and all those around him, were under the shade of his tranquility.

Through Allah’s grace and mighty striving, one can get to a place where one is no longer just filled with peace. One becomes peace itself.

One daily practice of Mr. Gülen’s community, which he insists on attending despite being in poor health, and which moved and touched me very deeply, was the daily community gathering in the big meeting hall, where they silently pray for all the suffering Muslims around the world – and beyond that, for all of humanity that suffers. I travel extensively around the world and have never seen this practice so formalized. I do not remember ever feeling the presence of God so strong, as when I sat in that gathering across from Mr. Gülen, silently praying. God is always with the suffering from among His creation.

During one of the classes, tea was brought to Mr. Gülen on a tray, along with small cakes. He put one sugar in the tea, stirred it with a spoon, and had it sent to me across the room. An act of pure grace and elegance, reminiscent of the beauty of manners of Allah’s beloved, peace be upon him. I closed my eyes and for the duration of the class prayed fervently and ceaselessly for Mr. Gülen. “Can the reward for beauty, be anything, except beauty in return?” (Surah Rahman, 60).

The day I was leaving, at the end of his class, he walked towards me and stopped, inquired about my time of departure, and prayed for a safe journey. He gave me many gifts, including a signed book; it told me that we also met, in the tavern of the human spirit.

As I left his presence and walked back to the house where I was staying, many thoughts flooded my mind. I remembered all of the negative things that have been said and written about him, and how starkly they contrasted with his peaceful presence and message. I saw and felt in him the harmlessness of a dove, a lover of peace and truth who has transcended the ages; a poet of God.

He challenges his students to think at his level. He sees humanity’s highest potential and has dedicated his life to seeing the children of men reach that potential.

As our car drove slowly out of the Chestnut Retreat Center, I once again closed my eyes and said a silent prayer of peace and safety for him.

It was my way of saying good-bye to one of humanity’s greatest friends.