Every year I get so excited for Ramadan. I start talking about it months in advance. This year, I even bought lights to decorate - including the oh-so-shocking (to the pearl-clutching crowd of Islamophobic evangelicals) moon-and-star tree topper that Walmart sold over Christmas, which I put in the window. I have a nice cloth calendar to count down the days of Ramadan to Eid al Fitr. I even made a "Happy Ramadan" banner in an effort to create that holiday feeling that everyone here tends to enjoy around Christmas. I got a journal to write in during Ramadan and signed up for a Productive Muslim Ramadan course online.
And yet... I wake each day, dreading the fast. I hate the feeling of weakness, of exhaustion, from not eating and the pain of headaches from dehydration. I hate that even sweeping the floor is too monumental a task for me when I'm fasting. Doing nothing (when not in school or work) makes the time go by SO slowly during the day, but I have no energy to do more. I get mad and frustrated that I'm not supposed to drink or eat anything (although not being able to drink a nice cold beverage is definitely worse in my book, especially considering the "over 100 with heat index" wave we've been going through and will keep going through for another week or so). I hate feeling so useless. I have no motivation to read Qur'an or do that web course I spent $100 on. I don't even believe in the whole "women can't fast when Aunt Flo is in town visiting" thing (because it's not in Qur'an, so don't even try to twist Qur'an to fit that misogynistic interpretation, mkay?), but I will break fast just to get a break from fasting (and because cramps can be agonizingly painful for a day or two and without meds, I'm a miserable lump on the sofa).
I go through the fasting day trying so hard to ignore it, trying to cultivate this sense of productivity and enhanced spirituality that pretty much everyone else claims to experience, and nothing happens. It's not there. Is it me? Am I not doing enough? Okay, given how I basically turn into a lump on the couch in Ramadan, that's probably a big part of it. But even when I try... it feels like I'm forcing something that just isn't there. Like I'm whistling into the wind, you know? Not that my belief is lacking. I believe in Allah, in Islam, 100%. I just can't seem to make this connection that everyone else claims to do.
It's really frustrating. It makes me wonder if I'm a hypocrite. I mean, if I'm a "good Muslim/real Muslim", then I'd feel some sort of fulfillment in Ramadan, right? I'd feel some extra special connection that makes my heart and spirit sing and reaffirm what I believe to be right. Why is standing up for prayer so hard? Why do I miss more prayers, even in Ramadan, than I've ever actually made? How is it that the promise of Allah's pleasure with me not enough to motivate me to overcome fatigue or sheer laziness? Why does my nafs trump my desire to please Allah, even in what is considered to be the most sacred month?
Sometimes it feels like the only thing Muslim about me is the scarf on my head. :(
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Monday, April 13, 2015
Book Review: "Undivided: A Muslim Daughter, Her Christian Mother, Their Path to Peace" by Patricia and Alana Raybon
I mentioned this book last week. Well, I got an advance copy for free (yay!), so I spent the last few days reading it.
For the official stuff: I received a digital ARC of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
And now... on to the review!
I was really really excited about this book when I first heard about it. "Finally!" I thought. "A real book about a Christian mom and her Muslim convert daughter and how they got past the hurdles of interfaith issues." It is so relevant to me (being the Muslim convert in a family of Christians) and I thought it might have some good tips or show how Patricia was able to resolve her struggles with her daughter choosing another faith.
I was wrong. What I found in this book was frustration. I was frustrated at Patricia's rambling, nonsensical way of writing. She jumped from topic to unrelated topic. Maybe I'm just not accustomed to evangelical histrionics, but it seemed like a lot of the drama getting in the way of their relationship (at least in the last few years) actually came from Patricia, not Alana.
Allow me to give a few examples:
Patricia refers to her daughter as a Christian (rather than a Muslim) throughout the book - as if "Muslim" is "just a phase". She constantly invalidates her daughter's spiritual path by mocking it as a "copy", a "knockoff" of Christianity.
She also says multiple times that her daughter "no longer believes", a notion that Alana soundly rejects, stating that she "believe(s) stronger than I ever have in my life. I struggle with the frustration of conveying to her that my walk in Islam has filled my heart with so much faith and love that I no longer feel the empty void that I once felt. Then after she hears this, I wish she could be content and happy for me, that I found a love like no other. A love for God."
Patricia describes Islam as her daughter's "defiant choice of faith" (this is a verbatim quote) - as if Alana went to Islam to spite her mother, rather than because she found spiritual fulfillment there.
She also consistently links Muslims and Islam with insanity and violence. Example: she says "Muslims get crazy" when Christians say anything about the Qur'an, after stating that the Qur'an doesn't resonate with her (as if that alone is enough to set off a firestorm in response) - although she and her husband also "got crazy" when the veracity of the Bible was questioned.
Patricia talks about her fears that her daughter
"if...granted a reason and platform to defend her chosen religion, she'll use it as ammunition, to put down her family's faith. Even more, I feared she'd do a good job. That she'd make Islam look good - while I'd fail to life high the Cross. That pressure I feel - to make Jesus and his good deeds and perfect life and extraordinary sacrifice look phenomenal and far better than Islam - weighs me down the most."
Ironically, it's Patricia who uses her faith like ammunition, who puts down her daughter's faith. If she is so concerned about making Christianity "look good", then why doesn't she trust God to do the job? Why does she make it her own personal job?
Patricia intends to fix the relationship with her daughter - the end goal of that repair being to get her daughter back in Christianity. She dismisses the notion that belief in Islam can be just as deep and satisfying for Alana as she finds in Christianity.
In short: Patricia makes Alana's conversion all about herself, rather than about Alana. She takes it personally. She keeps wondering "what did I do wrong?" and moaning and gnashing her teeth and crying, rather than realizing that Alana choosing Islam had NOTHING to do with Patricia in any way.
Alana's parts of the book, however, didn't ramble all over the place. She actually addressed the issues at hand in a fairly straight forward manner - why she became a Muslim, what she sees in Islam to this day, her frustrations that her mother refuses to accept that she does, in fact, believe in God - she simply doesn't called Him by the name of "Jesus". Her worries that her mother will try to teach her kids Christianity, after Patricia states that she wants her grandchildren "to know Christ" (although I will give Patricia props when she actually attempts to respect her daughter's wishes and not teach things that are contrary to Islam). The way she feels like she has to walk on eggshells around her mother, like she can't be "too Muslim" around her family. I'd love to quote whole pages of Alana's words - she's open and honest, but without the drama her mother brings.
In many cases, as I read Alana's sections, I felt like I was reading dialogue from my own head. Things I've thought, felt, and said. We have many of the same frustrations in dealing with our Christian families (even when those families are, in many cases, nominal in their practice of Christianity, they rarely waste time jumping up on the soapbox to preach to us of how "wrong" we are).
In the end, I wasn't convinced that there was any peace, any sort of resolution in their relationship. Patricia has decided to hold her tongue (for now), to grin and bear it, but that's far from peace or acceptance and her thinking about Islam hasn't changed even a bit.
This book was an exercise in frustration. If I'd read it in hardcopy, I would likely have thrown the book at the wall. I was going to give a copy of this to my mom, but now that I've read it, I may go with "Daughters of Another Path" (written by a Christian mother after her daughter converted) instead. I wish Alana would have written this book on her own - it would have turned out much better.
Still want to read it? "Undivided" releases on April 28. Purchase it at your local Christian bookstore, Books A Million, Barnes and Noble, or at Amazon. Then come back and tell me what you thought of it!
Monday, April 6, 2015
I'm Baaaaaaack... and What I'm Reading
Salam aleikum! After going MIA last summer, I'm back. Sort of. I went back to school, so that (with the assistance of employment) has been consuming my life.
I'm going to try and post more often and actually think of something to say (not that any of you probably even give a hoot, but whatever). There's a book coming out here at the end of the month called "Undivided: A Muslim Daughter, Her Christian Mother, Their Path to Peace" by Patricia and Alana Raybon. I've read the first seven pages (gracias to The Today Show's link) and really can't wait to read this book. I'm wondering how much it's going to tread the "you're my kid and I love you but I disagree with you and think you're wrong and going to Hell because you aren't Christian" line, largely because it's being published by Christian powerhouse Thomas Nelson (which seems to publish 3 out of 4 titles, fiction and non-fiction alike, in the Christian market). I guess we'll see. I'm gonna get it ASAP and will review it here, inshAllah.
Click here to read a sample
Click on the picture to go to Amazon:
I'm going to try and post more often and actually think of something to say (not that any of you probably even give a hoot, but whatever). There's a book coming out here at the end of the month called "Undivided: A Muslim Daughter, Her Christian Mother, Their Path to Peace" by Patricia and Alana Raybon. I've read the first seven pages (gracias to The Today Show's link) and really can't wait to read this book. I'm wondering how much it's going to tread the "you're my kid and I love you but I disagree with you and think you're wrong and going to Hell because you aren't Christian" line, largely because it's being published by Christian powerhouse Thomas Nelson (which seems to publish 3 out of 4 titles, fiction and non-fiction alike, in the Christian market). I guess we'll see. I'm gonna get it ASAP and will review it here, inshAllah.
Click here to read a sample
Click on the picture to go to Amazon:
Friday, June 20, 2014
Setting Goals for Ramadan
Salam aleikum, all. The clock is counting down. Ramadan is almost here, inshAllah!
Now, if you're like me, in the past you've had some vague, nebulous goals for the month of Ramadan. You say "Oh, I'll read the Qur'an in Ramadan" or "I'll pray all five salah" or something else, but you don't go beyond that. You don't make a plan - or, if you're like me, you don't hold yourself accountable for meet those goals.
As a result, the past couple of Ramadans have been less than successful for me. Isolation (lack of community) aside, I could have gotten much better benefit out of Ramadan by putting more effort into it, rather than laying on the couch watching all the Burger King commercials for bacon double cheeseburgers!
This year, I wrote down my goals. It took almost no time at all, largely because I got out a notepad and pen and actually WROTE them down. Ideas seem to flow so much more easily that way for me, which I never realised.
Now, before we get into our goals for Ramadan, what should we do? We need to make our sincere intention that this Ramadan fast is for the sake of Allah, to seek His pleasure and to draw us closer to Him. After all, tossing aside all the babble about rewards and devils being chained up, etc, this is what Ramadan comes down to: our relationship with Allah.
So why do we fast? To purify us - to remove our sins, inshAllah, and to make us thankful for the bounty we take for granted every day.
"O you who believe, fasting has been decreed for you as it was decreed for those before you, perhaps you may be righteous." 2:183
" A month of aspiration, in which the Qur'an was revealed; as a guide to the people and clarities from the guidance and the Criterion. Therefore, whoever of you witnesses the month, then let him fast therein. And whoever is ill or traveling, then the same number from different days. God wants to bring you ease and not to bring you hardship; and so that you may complete the count, and glorify God for what He has guided you, that you may be thankful." 2:185
Ramadan is generally called "the Month of the Qur'an". We can see why from the above ayah - this was when the Qur'an was first revealed to Prophet Muhammad. In keeping with that, we shouldn't just recite the Qur'an in Arabic, but we should read it in our language so that we *understand* it and can allow it to challenge and change us from within.
Goal #1: Read one juz of Qur'an each day.
This will allow us to read the Qur'an as a whole, from cover to cover, by the end of the month. I read a statistic that said some 95% of Muslims polled stated that they never, in their whole lives, have read the Qur'an in their own language and, in consequence, understood it. Let's start changing that this Ramadan.
Goal #2: Make all five salah every day - on time, if possible, but make them all, no excuses.
I think we've established that making the five salah is a constant jihad for me. I struggle with it - inshAllah, it will become easier and part of the natural flow of my day during Ramadan and afterward.
Goal #3: Learn one new surah each week (in Arabic), at minimum.
There are a lot of short chapters in Qur'an. Starting to pick up Quranic Arabic from those chapters is a good thing to do. Every language nerd, at heart, wants to be able to read something in the original language and appreciate the nuances and power of the words in their original form, rather than through the lens of a translator's cultural traditions and influences.
Goal #4: Be mindful of my tongue - no gossiping, backbiting, or ranting allowed.
This one can be a bit of a challenge sometimes. Not all the time, alhamdilullah, but being around certain people makes keeping to this harder. I shall keep in mind the old axiom: "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." Silence will help me to ponder those Qur'an verses I'll be reading, inshAllah. :)
Goal #5: Be mindful of what I eat.
Food is important, but when you're fasting? It's even MORE important. Everything we eat should be healthy and hydrating - but it's so easy to fall into the junk food trap! Fried foods, desserts, soda, tea... none of these things are good for us. I will strive to drink way more water and way less tea. (Yes, I know, tea is actually good, but it's a diuretic, and where I'm from, it comes loaded with sugar - this ain't no Yankee town, y'all!) I also want to eat more fruit and veggies, less processed stuff. Fruits, especially, are loaded with water - they help us rehydrate even as we eat. Grapes, melons of all kinds, citrus fruits, etc, should all be my best friend in the hot and thirsty month of Ramadan! I also need to buy a container of dates - the fructose in them is quickly absorbable and will give me a fast and much-needed energy and blood sugar boost at the end of the day.
Well, there you have it: my plan for Ramadan. Seems a bit daunting, now that I look at it, but it also doesn't seem like much. (How does that even work? lol)
Here's hoping that everyone is successful this Ramadan, inshAllah, and that you all establish plans to help you get the most out of this holy month!
Sunday, April 20, 2014
The Adhan
"Allahu akbar! Allahu akbar!"
You hear the call and it's strange, foreign, exotic.
I hear a call that is as familiar to me as the beat of my heart.
"God is the Greatest, above all things, all people, all animals, all of creation!"
You think "terrorist", the vocal sub-minority you hear on selected news coverage, the same people who twist Islam into something I don't recognize.
But they don't speak for me. I speak for me. This call speaks for me.
"Ash-shadu illah ilaha il Allah!"
Firm conviction is the armor of my heart and mind.
"I bear witness that there is nothing, no god, no person, nothing in all existence that is worthy of worship except GOD, ALLAH, Lord of the Throne!"
"Ash-shadu anna Muhammad rasulAllah!"
"I bear witness that Muhammad is a messenger from Allah, bringing the same message carried down through the centuries by other prophets, by Abraham, Noah, Jacob, David, John, and Jesus (peace and blessings of Allah be upon all of them)."
I bear witness that the Qur'an is the truth of my soul, recognized by my soul, inscribed in the fibers of my heart and the memory of my soul, awoken by the world "Iqra! Read!"
"Read! In the name of your Lord who created! Read! And your Lord is Most Generous, who taught by the pen, who taught men what they did not know."
"Haya a salah!"
Come to prayer. Lay down your worries, your fears, your sorrows, your joys. Rest your heart. Quiet your mind. It's time to pray.
"Haya a falah!"
Come to success. Forget your wealth, your poverty. Forget your station in life, be it the highest or lowest of consequence to others. The best success is yet to come. It's time to pray.
"Allahu akbar! Allahu akbar!"
Allah is the Beginning and the Ending. He encompasses all things. He knows all things. He hears all things.
"La illaha il Allah!"
There is no god but GOD.
You hear the call and it's strange, foreign, exotic.
I hear a call that is as familiar to me as the beat of my heart.
"God is the Greatest, above all things, all people, all animals, all of creation!"
You think "terrorist", the vocal sub-minority you hear on selected news coverage, the same people who twist Islam into something I don't recognize.
But they don't speak for me. I speak for me. This call speaks for me.
"Ash-shadu illah ilaha il Allah!"
Firm conviction is the armor of my heart and mind.
"I bear witness that there is nothing, no god, no person, nothing in all existence that is worthy of worship except GOD, ALLAH, Lord of the Throne!"
"Ash-shadu anna Muhammad rasulAllah!"
"I bear witness that Muhammad is a messenger from Allah, bringing the same message carried down through the centuries by other prophets, by Abraham, Noah, Jacob, David, John, and Jesus (peace and blessings of Allah be upon all of them)."
I bear witness that the Qur'an is the truth of my soul, recognized by my soul, inscribed in the fibers of my heart and the memory of my soul, awoken by the world "Iqra! Read!"
"Read! In the name of your Lord who created! Read! And your Lord is Most Generous, who taught by the pen, who taught men what they did not know."
"Haya a salah!"
Come to prayer. Lay down your worries, your fears, your sorrows, your joys. Rest your heart. Quiet your mind. It's time to pray.
"Haya a falah!"
Come to success. Forget your wealth, your poverty. Forget your station in life, be it the highest or lowest of consequence to others. The best success is yet to come. It's time to pray.
"Allahu akbar! Allahu akbar!"
Allah is the Beginning and the Ending. He encompasses all things. He knows all things. He hears all things.
"La illaha il Allah!"
There is no god but GOD.
Marital Intimacy in 2:223
Today's post is a wee bit of a powder keg. Why? Because I'm going to be looking at what the Qur'an says about sex.
Specifically, what the Qur'an says in 2:223.
"Your wives are as a tilth unto you; so approach your tilth when or how ye will; but do some good act for your souls beforehand; and fear Allah. And know that ye are to meet Him (in the Hereafter), and give (these) good tidings to those who believe." Qur'an 2:223 (Yusuf Ali)
This verse is often used by non-Muslims (and even Muslims) to assert that women are property and have no right to deny sex to their husbands. Muslims will often then quote the hadith about angels cursing until morning the woman who denies her husband sex when he wants it.
I want to look at this verse a bit differently, though. My goal is to hopefully show that the Qur'an endorses sexual gratification not only for men, but also for women.
Women are often made to feel like they shouldn't think about or want sex, and that if they do, they are somehow "impure", "loose", etc. We're also taught that discussing sex is immodest and something that "good (Muslim) girls don't do". As a result, many a young Muslim woman marries without understanding that she, also, has sexual rights within the marriage. (I wonder if, before marriage, men are informing the groom of his wife's Islamically-endorsed sexual rights, the way that women are bombarded with a "if your husband wants it, you have to say yes" message.)
Let's take another look at this verse. It says "your wives are as a tilth unto you".
"But wait!" We think. "What does that even mean?"
A tilth is fertile, cultivated land.
Making the connection between "fertile land" and reproduction is a bit too obvious, so I'm going to approach fertility from a different way. When you're just married, your freshly-halal relationship with your spouse is like newly tilled earth. You've made your vows and signed the marriage contract. You're now permitted, with Allah's blessing, to enjoy marital intimacy with your spouse. It is, in fact, an act of worship. Whether you've had sexual experiences with someone else or been married before or are a virgin, this experience is unique. Your sexual relationship is new, fragile, and you don't want to spoil it by leaving your spouse unsatisfied and frustrated. Sexual frustration is damaging to a marriage; despite popular belief in some circles, women have as much of a need for sexual gratification as men do. If one person consistently is satisfied and the other is not, this inequality can build feelings of resentment, reluctance, and even anger in the latter. You don't want that. You want your relationship to grow as a result of your marital intimacy.
What does it take for land to produce its fruit? Sunlight, water, and time. Too much darkness? Most crops won't grow. Too much or too little water? The crops will rot or dry up. Farmers take the time to irrigate their crops, to ensure the best yield possible.
In the same manner, mutually satisfying intimacy in marriage takes communication, effort, and time. Too many people get married and don't even have a basic, general understanding of human sexuality. Men think that what pleases them is pleasing to their wives, and the women, if they aren't happy with the situation, have been taught that talking about sex isn't something modest women do and that they shouldn't say anything that might hurt their husband's feelings. Being afraid to discuss sex with your spouse is ridiculous. Yes, sex is a powder keg. Your spouse may have hurt feelings because he thinks he's a stud, and your revelation that your experience hasn't been so great can wound his pride. Isn't your marriage worth honest communication? Isn't it better to address the issue now, rather than let your marital intimacy potentially feel like an unwanted chore?
"So approach your tilth when and how you will."
The Qur'an doesn't place limitations on what sexual acts spouses may do. Nor does it say "only do these things at night with the lights out". Instead, it tells us to do what we find pleasing. Allah created our desires, and within the privacy of the marital relationship, we are urged to satisfy those desires.
This verse does not advocate marital rape. It does not disregard a woman's (or a man's) right to say "no". It merely tells us that what we consent to do for the pleasure of our spouse and ourselves in private is up to us as individuals and couples.
"But do some good act for your souls beforehand."
The "good act" beforehand could be clear communication. It could be making the intention to Allah that you want the experience to be mutually enjoyable, to increase your love and the overall quality of your relationship. It could be understanding that, for women, sexual satisfaction is tied up in our emotional and mental states, and putting in the effort to engage her complete interest and cultivate her desire long before the bedroom door closes.
From now on, when I see this verse, it will stand out to me as a Qur'anic declaration of the importance of taking the time and effort to nurture the tilth of marital intimacy.
"Your spouse's sexuality is as fertile land to you, so cultivate that land with care, and satisfy your desires in a way that is mutually pleasing."
Specifically, what the Qur'an says in 2:223.
"Your wives are as a tilth unto you; so approach your tilth when or how ye will; but do some good act for your souls beforehand; and fear Allah. And know that ye are to meet Him (in the Hereafter), and give (these) good tidings to those who believe." Qur'an 2:223 (Yusuf Ali)
This verse is often used by non-Muslims (and even Muslims) to assert that women are property and have no right to deny sex to their husbands. Muslims will often then quote the hadith about angels cursing until morning the woman who denies her husband sex when he wants it.
I want to look at this verse a bit differently, though. My goal is to hopefully show that the Qur'an endorses sexual gratification not only for men, but also for women.
Women are often made to feel like they shouldn't think about or want sex, and that if they do, they are somehow "impure", "loose", etc. We're also taught that discussing sex is immodest and something that "good (Muslim) girls don't do". As a result, many a young Muslim woman marries without understanding that she, also, has sexual rights within the marriage. (I wonder if, before marriage, men are informing the groom of his wife's Islamically-endorsed sexual rights, the way that women are bombarded with a "if your husband wants it, you have to say yes" message.)
Let's take another look at this verse. It says "your wives are as a tilth unto you".
"But wait!" We think. "What does that even mean?"
A tilth is fertile, cultivated land.
Making the connection between "fertile land" and reproduction is a bit too obvious, so I'm going to approach fertility from a different way. When you're just married, your freshly-halal relationship with your spouse is like newly tilled earth. You've made your vows and signed the marriage contract. You're now permitted, with Allah's blessing, to enjoy marital intimacy with your spouse. It is, in fact, an act of worship. Whether you've had sexual experiences with someone else or been married before or are a virgin, this experience is unique. Your sexual relationship is new, fragile, and you don't want to spoil it by leaving your spouse unsatisfied and frustrated. Sexual frustration is damaging to a marriage; despite popular belief in some circles, women have as much of a need for sexual gratification as men do. If one person consistently is satisfied and the other is not, this inequality can build feelings of resentment, reluctance, and even anger in the latter. You don't want that. You want your relationship to grow as a result of your marital intimacy.
What does it take for land to produce its fruit? Sunlight, water, and time. Too much darkness? Most crops won't grow. Too much or too little water? The crops will rot or dry up. Farmers take the time to irrigate their crops, to ensure the best yield possible.
In the same manner, mutually satisfying intimacy in marriage takes communication, effort, and time. Too many people get married and don't even have a basic, general understanding of human sexuality. Men think that what pleases them is pleasing to their wives, and the women, if they aren't happy with the situation, have been taught that talking about sex isn't something modest women do and that they shouldn't say anything that might hurt their husband's feelings. Being afraid to discuss sex with your spouse is ridiculous. Yes, sex is a powder keg. Your spouse may have hurt feelings because he thinks he's a stud, and your revelation that your experience hasn't been so great can wound his pride. Isn't your marriage worth honest communication? Isn't it better to address the issue now, rather than let your marital intimacy potentially feel like an unwanted chore?
"So approach your tilth when and how you will."
The Qur'an doesn't place limitations on what sexual acts spouses may do. Nor does it say "only do these things at night with the lights out". Instead, it tells us to do what we find pleasing. Allah created our desires, and within the privacy of the marital relationship, we are urged to satisfy those desires.
This verse does not advocate marital rape. It does not disregard a woman's (or a man's) right to say "no". It merely tells us that what we consent to do for the pleasure of our spouse and ourselves in private is up to us as individuals and couples.
"But do some good act for your souls beforehand."
The "good act" beforehand could be clear communication. It could be making the intention to Allah that you want the experience to be mutually enjoyable, to increase your love and the overall quality of your relationship. It could be understanding that, for women, sexual satisfaction is tied up in our emotional and mental states, and putting in the effort to engage her complete interest and cultivate her desire long before the bedroom door closes.
From now on, when I see this verse, it will stand out to me as a Qur'anic declaration of the importance of taking the time and effort to nurture the tilth of marital intimacy.
"Your spouse's sexuality is as fertile land to you, so cultivate that land with care, and satisfy your desires in a way that is mutually pleasing."
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Drawing the Line
I'm just pondering a situation recently where a sister and I were discussing the Shi'a practice of saying "Ya Ali madad" ("Oh Ali, help me"). (The topic of this post isn't on the Shi'a, btw, so don't focus on that. This can and does apply across the Muslim spectrum.)
Some folks accused us of being Salafis and pronouncing takfir on people (declaring who is and isn't Muslim) because we pointed out that Allah forbids calling upon other than Him in the very first chapter of Qur'an ("You (Allah) ALONE we turn to, You ALONE we seek for help"). They accused us of being intolerant. How, precisely, is it intolerant to remind people of one of the most basic teachings of Qur'an? Just because they don't like it doesn't make it any less the truth.
Is it okay to pronounce takfir on people? No. But recognizing it when their own words and behavior pronounce it on them? You're not judging them - they're announcing where they stand to you! There is a lot of stuff that Muslims "advise" each other on that is, frankly, stupid. A lot of things that are simply their own opinion of what is Islamic and what isn't, with no basis in Qur'an.
If you see a Muslim calling on other than Allah for help, then that's not pronouncing takfir. We are duty-bound to remind our brothers and sisters of Qur'an's teachings - especially when it relates to shirk, the most hated, most warned-against sin in the Qur'an! If they hate the reminder, there's nothing we can do about that.
As Muslims, if there is ANYTHING we should be paranoid about, it's shirk. The day we become lacksidaisical about shirk and excuse it among our Muslim brothers and sisters is the day we risk falling into it ourselves. Shirk is a very slippery slope.
I think that, sometimes, we can go to such lengths to give people the benefit of the doubt and not judge them, that we're actually risking being detrimental to our own selves, by surrounding ourselves with influences that can subtlely affect us (example here: Muslims who call on other than Allah for help). Does that make sense?
There has to be a happy medium - neither condemning everyone for "not thinking like me", but also not happily accepting it when our brothers and sisters say "La ilaha il Allah" and in the same breath seek aid with something/someone else.
I think that many people have reached a point where, in the name of tolerance, they're willing to ignore some serious issues and try to blow it off by calling it "a difference of opinion". We can have different interpretations of SO many things in Qur'an, and that's okay! Nothing wrong with difference of opinion, but there's a difference between that and attempting to change Islam.
There are some rules that are hard and fast. Not setting up partners with Allah is the bedrock of our faith - if we're willing to overlook it when our brothers and sisters are veering dangerously in the direction of shirk, if we're more afraid of hurting their feelings by reminding them of the Qur'an's teachings or them branding us as "intolerant" than we are of allowing them to go astray from tawhid, then we have a serious problem.
Sometimes Muslims think, by virtue of being Muslim, that they are impervious to shirk - that they could NEVER, no matter what they say or do, set up partners with Allah. We need to get over this erroneous notion, this arrogance that makes us think what others fall into isn't also a potential trap for us.
Being Quranist or Progressive doesn't mean we sit around the campfire singing Kumbaya, regardless of what our brothers and sisters in Islam are doing. There's difference of opinion and then there is clearly laid out Qur'anic "DO NOT DO THIS" criteria. People can turn away if they choose to do so, but why would any Muslim turn a blind eye to another Muslim doing something that falls within the realm of shirk? We love each other enough to nitpick over beards and hijabs and fingernails and socks, but not enough to remind one another of the Qur'an when we appear to have forgotten it? SubhanAllah....
Some folks accused us of being Salafis and pronouncing takfir on people (declaring who is and isn't Muslim) because we pointed out that Allah forbids calling upon other than Him in the very first chapter of Qur'an ("You (Allah) ALONE we turn to, You ALONE we seek for help"). They accused us of being intolerant. How, precisely, is it intolerant to remind people of one of the most basic teachings of Qur'an? Just because they don't like it doesn't make it any less the truth.
Is it okay to pronounce takfir on people? No. But recognizing it when their own words and behavior pronounce it on them? You're not judging them - they're announcing where they stand to you! There is a lot of stuff that Muslims "advise" each other on that is, frankly, stupid. A lot of things that are simply their own opinion of what is Islamic and what isn't, with no basis in Qur'an.
If you see a Muslim calling on other than Allah for help, then that's not pronouncing takfir. We are duty-bound to remind our brothers and sisters of Qur'an's teachings - especially when it relates to shirk, the most hated, most warned-against sin in the Qur'an! If they hate the reminder, there's nothing we can do about that.
As Muslims, if there is ANYTHING we should be paranoid about, it's shirk. The day we become lacksidaisical about shirk and excuse it among our Muslim brothers and sisters is the day we risk falling into it ourselves. Shirk is a very slippery slope.
I think that, sometimes, we can go to such lengths to give people the benefit of the doubt and not judge them, that we're actually risking being detrimental to our own selves, by surrounding ourselves with influences that can subtlely affect us (example here: Muslims who call on other than Allah for help). Does that make sense?
There has to be a happy medium - neither condemning everyone for "not thinking like me", but also not happily accepting it when our brothers and sisters say "La ilaha il Allah" and in the same breath seek aid with something/someone else.
I think that many people have reached a point where, in the name of tolerance, they're willing to ignore some serious issues and try to blow it off by calling it "a difference of opinion". We can have different interpretations of SO many things in Qur'an, and that's okay! Nothing wrong with difference of opinion, but there's a difference between that and attempting to change Islam.
There are some rules that are hard and fast. Not setting up partners with Allah is the bedrock of our faith - if we're willing to overlook it when our brothers and sisters are veering dangerously in the direction of shirk, if we're more afraid of hurting their feelings by reminding them of the Qur'an's teachings or them branding us as "intolerant" than we are of allowing them to go astray from tawhid, then we have a serious problem.
Sometimes Muslims think, by virtue of being Muslim, that they are impervious to shirk - that they could NEVER, no matter what they say or do, set up partners with Allah. We need to get over this erroneous notion, this arrogance that makes us think what others fall into isn't also a potential trap for us.
Being Quranist or Progressive doesn't mean we sit around the campfire singing Kumbaya, regardless of what our brothers and sisters in Islam are doing. There's difference of opinion and then there is clearly laid out Qur'anic "DO NOT DO THIS" criteria. People can turn away if they choose to do so, but why would any Muslim turn a blind eye to another Muslim doing something that falls within the realm of shirk? We love each other enough to nitpick over beards and hijabs and fingernails and socks, but not enough to remind one another of the Qur'an when we appear to have forgotten it? SubhanAllah....
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Muslim Parenthood
Surprising title to this one, yes? I know you had to look twice. (Amber, you might want to treat that whiplash.) After all, you're thinking "What on earth can a confirmed childfree Muslimah have to say about parenthood?". And you're right - I don't have kids, I don't want kids, I don't even really like kids; I tolerate a select few, but only for about two hours at a time if they're behaving well and I can stick them in the playground at McD's or something. LOL
Let me give you the background on this post. I have a friend, a convert to Islam (of about three years now), who is married to a "born" Muslim Arab. They've been married for twice as long as she's been Muslim. They have three kids. My friend wants to teach her kids about Islam - she wants it SO BADLY. Her husband is Muslim only in the cultural sense, in the way that many "Christians" in the US are Christian; namely, "my family is this and so I identify as this, but I don't do anything to actually practice it". He doesn't pray, attend jummah, read Qur'an, but he will fast during Ramadan. Those are his choices and I can respect that.
The problem, dear readers, is that he will not teach his wife and kids about Islam. He refuses. My friend has been Muslim for some three years now and she's only just starting to get down the ritual prayer on her own. "Why, with all the videos, etc, online has it taken her so long?" you may wonder. Not everyone has the luxury of access to such things. "Then why doesn't she go to the mosque to learn?" you wonder. The only mosque in town charges $50 for a prayer class.
You heard me right. THEY CHARGE $50 TO TEACH PEOPLE HOW TO PRAY.
My friend's husband is the sole breadwinner and they don't have much money. For her, $50 may as well be a million dollars. The masjid is also completely Arab-centric and the community doesn't like converts (another issue for another day), particularly one who "stole" one of "their" Arab men from the Arab women. But I digress.
Over the last few years my friend has asked her husband for help repeatedly. "Teach me." "Teach our kids." He won't. He doesn't want a religious wife. He doesn't want to teach his kids. He wants them to be as blasé about Islam as he is.
I see how my friend suffers over this, and my heart breaks for her. I can see how much she wants to incorporate Islam into her life, how much she wants to pray and teach her children how to pray, to expand her knowledge for the betterment of herself as a person, as a wife, and as a mother. This is the hardship of marrying someone who is so different from you - not just culturally, not just educationally (she's working on her master's, he didn't finish high school), but on the fundamental level of commitment to the deen. Having one person who wants to live Islam and another who identifies with it only vaguely is one of the most unequal of yokes in the world.
Now, after my rambling, here comes my point: who will teach your kids if you will not? What will you say, on the last day, when Allah holds you to account for your children? If you had the knowledge to teach them Islam but didn't, how can you justify it? You can't. Allah will know the truth. The only thing I can think of is that such people, at heart, don't believe they will be held to account for what they have done. SubhanAllah, man.
If you aren't teaching your kids, not for lack of knowledge, but for other reasons, ask yourself "WHY?".
My friend lives an hour away, so I don't get to see her much, but I help her as best I can. I'm going to keep her and all other Muslim parents who don't have the knowledge to teach their kids in my du'a, and also make du'a for the parents with knowledge, that Allah change their hearts so that they see the great injustice they do their families by not teaching their spouses or children.
Let me give you the background on this post. I have a friend, a convert to Islam (of about three years now), who is married to a "born" Muslim Arab. They've been married for twice as long as she's been Muslim. They have three kids. My friend wants to teach her kids about Islam - she wants it SO BADLY. Her husband is Muslim only in the cultural sense, in the way that many "Christians" in the US are Christian; namely, "my family is this and so I identify as this, but I don't do anything to actually practice it". He doesn't pray, attend jummah, read Qur'an, but he will fast during Ramadan. Those are his choices and I can respect that.
The problem, dear readers, is that he will not teach his wife and kids about Islam. He refuses. My friend has been Muslim for some three years now and she's only just starting to get down the ritual prayer on her own. "Why, with all the videos, etc, online has it taken her so long?" you may wonder. Not everyone has the luxury of access to such things. "Then why doesn't she go to the mosque to learn?" you wonder. The only mosque in town charges $50 for a prayer class.
You heard me right. THEY CHARGE $50 TO TEACH PEOPLE HOW TO PRAY.
My friend's husband is the sole breadwinner and they don't have much money. For her, $50 may as well be a million dollars. The masjid is also completely Arab-centric and the community doesn't like converts (another issue for another day), particularly one who "stole" one of "their" Arab men from the Arab women. But I digress.
Over the last few years my friend has asked her husband for help repeatedly. "Teach me." "Teach our kids." He won't. He doesn't want a religious wife. He doesn't want to teach his kids. He wants them to be as blasé about Islam as he is.
I see how my friend suffers over this, and my heart breaks for her. I can see how much she wants to incorporate Islam into her life, how much she wants to pray and teach her children how to pray, to expand her knowledge for the betterment of herself as a person, as a wife, and as a mother. This is the hardship of marrying someone who is so different from you - not just culturally, not just educationally (she's working on her master's, he didn't finish high school), but on the fundamental level of commitment to the deen. Having one person who wants to live Islam and another who identifies with it only vaguely is one of the most unequal of yokes in the world.
Now, after my rambling, here comes my point: who will teach your kids if you will not? What will you say, on the last day, when Allah holds you to account for your children? If you had the knowledge to teach them Islam but didn't, how can you justify it? You can't. Allah will know the truth. The only thing I can think of is that such people, at heart, don't believe they will be held to account for what they have done. SubhanAllah, man.
If you aren't teaching your kids, not for lack of knowledge, but for other reasons, ask yourself "WHY?".
My friend lives an hour away, so I don't get to see her much, but I help her as best I can. I'm going to keep her and all other Muslim parents who don't have the knowledge to teach their kids in my du'a, and also make du'a for the parents with knowledge, that Allah change their hearts so that they see the great injustice they do their families by not teaching their spouses or children.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Salam aleikum!
I am a terrible blogger. Slacktastic in the extreme. I haven't had much to talk about, though. 2013 has been, as a year, a mixed bag of shenanigans and general lack of inspiration, motivation, and other -ations if they fit here.
2014 is going to be a big year for me, though. I'll be moving into my tiny home, to a new city, to start a new job, and return to college for my future profession as a Library Lady, inshAllah. I hope to make more time to ponder things, study Qur'an, write blog posts, and clear away the clutter - mental, physical, and emotional - so that I can be a better, more authentic me.
So, as the year draws to an end, I will simply say:
2013: Alhamdilullah.
2014: InshAllah.
2014 is going to be a big year for me, though. I'll be moving into my tiny home, to a new city, to start a new job, and return to college for my future profession as a Library Lady, inshAllah. I hope to make more time to ponder things, study Qur'an, write blog posts, and clear away the clutter - mental, physical, and emotional - so that I can be a better, more authentic me.
So, as the year draws to an end, I will simply say:
2013: Alhamdilullah.
2014: InshAllah.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Falling Off the Wagon
The prayer wagon, that is.
I'm not sure how it really happens. I don't plan it. I'll wake up, intending to make my five prayers that day. Or I'll go to sleep, intending to wake up for fajr. (Let's face it, fajr is the hardest one of all for so many of us.)
But then I sleep through fajr because I was up until the wee hours (a more common occurrence than I honestly want it to be).
Having done that, I'll procrastinate the rest of them. *adhan app goes off* Thinks to self: "I'm doing such-and-such, I'll go pray in a few minutes." But I forget, and suddenly I've missed dhuhr and it's asr or (worse) magrib. Then, oops, I missed magrib, too. "I'll pray isha before I go to bed tonight", I tell myself. But then I don't do that one, either.
All of a sudden, I've missed an entire day - and those days become a week, then two... and even longer.
I think about all the time that's passed, all the prayers I've missed, and feel guilty. When I do pray, I love the way it makes me feel. I make that connection with Allah. I step on that prayer rug, and it's like a 2x4 spot of peace. That's when I really settle in to my identity as a Muslim. So why do I have these long gaps where I don't make a single prayer in an entire day?
I know I'm not the only one who struggles with this. I can't even try to excuse it by saying "I'm busy", because I'm not. I don't have a job. I'm not going to school. (Though I am looking for work and will be taking a continuing education class at the local college in a month, inshAllah.)
The only answer I can come up with is that I'm lazy. It's true. I'm lazy. I don't try to be. I don't intend to be. I just let myself get bogged down with frustration over my aimless, jobless state, and so I don't do anything.
I want to get myself back on track. I really do. Of course, the only way to do that is to pull out that rug and pray. Being consistent in my prayers really is #MyJihad.
How do you get yourself out of it when you fall into a prayer rut?
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
A Sign of the Times
I got an idea of an experiment that I wanted to do a few days ago. Given the date, I thought that it seemed like the perfect time to try it out, though the timing wasn't deliberate on my part.
The experiment? Take my cute hijabi self and stand at a busy intersection with a sign that said "Peace Be Upon You". I wondered what kind of reactions I'd get. Let's face it - my new town is in the Bible belt, and you can probably count the number of Muslims in town on one hand. You can hazard a guess at what would happen, but I wanted to know for sure.
Let me tell you what happened. People waved at me. They smiled. They gave me thumbs up and honked their horns. More than a few flashed peace signs - including (not surprising to me) a trio of soldiers in one car. Two comments: "Salam aleikum, sister. Islam is the path of peace. America needs Islam!" from one middle-aged African American brother. Another drove by and shouted "That's right, sister! That's right!"
In short, on a day most Muslims dread because they worry about negative comments and behavior, the response I got was overwhelmingly positive. Not a single person made a negative comment. Not a single one made a negative gesture. People understand, by and large, that Muslims are their neighbors, friends, coworkers, and family members. They understand that we're normal people, just like them. This new understanding and acceptance is a sign of the times that we live in.
To me, this just goes to show that a little faith in the basic goodness of humanity can go a long, long way. Alhamdilullah.
The experiment? Take my cute hijabi self and stand at a busy intersection with a sign that said "Peace Be Upon You". I wondered what kind of reactions I'd get. Let's face it - my new town is in the Bible belt, and you can probably count the number of Muslims in town on one hand. You can hazard a guess at what would happen, but I wanted to know for sure.
Let me tell you what happened. People waved at me. They smiled. They gave me thumbs up and honked their horns. More than a few flashed peace signs - including (not surprising to me) a trio of soldiers in one car. Two comments: "Salam aleikum, sister. Islam is the path of peace. America needs Islam!" from one middle-aged African American brother. Another drove by and shouted "That's right, sister! That's right!"
In short, on a day most Muslims dread because they worry about negative comments and behavior, the response I got was overwhelmingly positive. Not a single person made a negative comment. Not a single one made a negative gesture. People understand, by and large, that Muslims are their neighbors, friends, coworkers, and family members. They understand that we're normal people, just like them. This new understanding and acceptance is a sign of the times that we live in.
To me, this just goes to show that a little faith in the basic goodness of humanity can go a long, long way. Alhamdilullah.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Happy Eid!
Well, they've made the announcement: tomorrow is Eid, which means we get the party started tonight! What are your plans to celebrate the holiday?
Personally, I'm just looking forward to eating during the daylight hours again!
Personally, I'm just looking forward to eating during the daylight hours again!
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Going It Alone
It's tough to be alone. I know, "you're never really alone, Allah is always there".
However, as human beings, we want to be with other people. We want to be accepted as we are. We want to not have to censor ourselves to gain that acceptance. We just want to be ourselves and not be told "You're wrong, you're kuffar/outside Islam/following your own desires/ignorant and need to find a good scholar to teach you/etc."
I've heard some variation on all of this before. One person even suggested I needed to find a good Muslim man to marry so he could teach me proper Islam. (That he would be Sunni went without saying.)
Converts often go it alone. Even within the community we can often face discrimination and prejudice -- for our citizenship or our skin color or simply our status as converts, especially if we commit an egregious error and marry an Arab Muslim man -- one who is viewed by the "born" Muslim Arab women as rightfully the property of some one or another of them, and therefore "stolen" by us, and we aren't "really Muslim" anyway, they say.
We are treated like an odd mixture of a bumbling toddler and learned adult. On the one hand, people feel they have the right and duty to "correct" everything we do -- from how we wear hijab in the masjid to the way our feet or hands are when we pray to sitting down to eat a meal. On the other, if we have a hard time fasting because we've never done it before, we're told that we're adults and it should be easy for us, that praying five times a day in Arabic isn't hard and if we don't get it, we're just being lazy. If we struggle to integrate this new paradigm of Islam into our lives while also dealing with non-Muslim families, friends, and coworkers who think we're going through a "phase" or are "weird" now, if this frustrates or angers or saddens us, we're told that we should reject our non-Muslim friends and limit our contact with our non-Muslim family members -- too often without being given other relationships to fill that void, if we actually do that.
I often think that the lonliest person in Islam is the convert. After all, we've traded in our old lives -- our "church families" -- for Islam. We believe that it's better, that this is the way, that we're gonna be swimming in a sea of brotherly and sisterly love forever, supported and encouraged by the ummah around us. This is what we are led to believe happens, without fail.
Sadly, once the flood of "takbir" and "mabruk" recedes post-shahada, some other new Muslim will take our place as the "shiny new thing", and the sisters and brothers who once eagerly returned our texts and messages and sought us out at jummah prayer fade into the background because they don't want the burden of helping us to fill in our practical application gaps. Many of us read the Qur'an and lots of books and blogs before converting, but we still need help with learning al-Fatiha and what is a sujood and tips that will make fasting easier and maybe a suhoor wake up call, just to make sure we're up for that important meal before we start a long day of fasting during our first or second Ramadan.
Instead, we're left to watch videos online and setting our own alarms (which, if we stay up late, may or may not be effective in waking us up before fajr) and eating the wrong things or not drinking enough water and perhaps getting ill in our attempts to fast.
And all of that is just if you're a traditionalist (Sunni/Shi'a) Muslim. If your interpretation is different from those two, then you can look forward to all sorts of verbal attacks, online or in person, when people find out you aren't Sunni or Shi'a. All of a sudden, they want to debate you with the same tiresome questions: "How do you know how to pray?" "How do you know how to fast Ramadan?" "How do you...." The list can go on forever. In the meantime, you're sitting there thinking "I don't want to debate. I'm tired of debating. I'm tired of people trying to undermine me as an intelligent person. I'm tired of being told to follow this scholar or that scholar. I'm tired of being told that I don't have a right to an opinion on anything because I'm not a scholar. All I wanted was to be around other Muslims and not have them impress their cultural-practices-passed-off-as-Islam on me. That's all."
As a result, even within a minority community (here in the US, at least), you're a minority. Looked down upon by others, judged, called names, and treated like you're carrying the plague, just because you don't conform to the local status quo in your deen.
Many people can't deal with that pressure. Some hide their interpretation behind a non-committal smile when approached and told to do something because "this scholar said" or "that school of thought says", all the while thinking "Just leave me alone and keep your superstitions and cultural baggage to yourself." Others avoid going to the mosque at all. Still others may just go back to their previous faith (or lack thereof), feeling like everything they'd been told about Islam and Muslims being welcoming and accepting and diverse was a lie.
I have resigned myself to never quite fitting in with most Muslims because of my approach to Islam, but I don't regret it. I know that this is the only deen for me. So when people say, in a way that's meant to convey their opinion that I'm lost, "May Allah guide you", I will simply smile and tell them "He did and He does".
I will work to eradicate the widespread notion of "Muslim = Foreign/Other/Bad" in wider society.
I will know that I'm not really alone, that there are wonderful people out there who share my perspective, who are just a mouse-click away.
And I will be content.
However, as human beings, we want to be with other people. We want to be accepted as we are. We want to not have to censor ourselves to gain that acceptance. We just want to be ourselves and not be told "You're wrong, you're kuffar/outside Islam/following your own desires/ignorant and need to find a good scholar to teach you/etc."
I've heard some variation on all of this before. One person even suggested I needed to find a good Muslim man to marry so he could teach me proper Islam. (That he would be Sunni went without saying.)
Converts often go it alone. Even within the community we can often face discrimination and prejudice -- for our citizenship or our skin color or simply our status as converts, especially if we commit an egregious error and marry an Arab Muslim man -- one who is viewed by the "born" Muslim Arab women as rightfully the property of some one or another of them, and therefore "stolen" by us, and we aren't "really Muslim" anyway, they say.
We are treated like an odd mixture of a bumbling toddler and learned adult. On the one hand, people feel they have the right and duty to "correct" everything we do -- from how we wear hijab in the masjid to the way our feet or hands are when we pray to sitting down to eat a meal. On the other, if we have a hard time fasting because we've never done it before, we're told that we're adults and it should be easy for us, that praying five times a day in Arabic isn't hard and if we don't get it, we're just being lazy. If we struggle to integrate this new paradigm of Islam into our lives while also dealing with non-Muslim families, friends, and coworkers who think we're going through a "phase" or are "weird" now, if this frustrates or angers or saddens us, we're told that we should reject our non-Muslim friends and limit our contact with our non-Muslim family members -- too often without being given other relationships to fill that void, if we actually do that.
I often think that the lonliest person in Islam is the convert. After all, we've traded in our old lives -- our "church families" -- for Islam. We believe that it's better, that this is the way, that we're gonna be swimming in a sea of brotherly and sisterly love forever, supported and encouraged by the ummah around us. This is what we are led to believe happens, without fail.
Sadly, once the flood of "takbir" and "mabruk" recedes post-shahada, some other new Muslim will take our place as the "shiny new thing", and the sisters and brothers who once eagerly returned our texts and messages and sought us out at jummah prayer fade into the background because they don't want the burden of helping us to fill in our practical application gaps. Many of us read the Qur'an and lots of books and blogs before converting, but we still need help with learning al-Fatiha and what is a sujood and tips that will make fasting easier and maybe a suhoor wake up call, just to make sure we're up for that important meal before we start a long day of fasting during our first or second Ramadan.
Instead, we're left to watch videos online and setting our own alarms (which, if we stay up late, may or may not be effective in waking us up before fajr) and eating the wrong things or not drinking enough water and perhaps getting ill in our attempts to fast.
And all of that is just if you're a traditionalist (Sunni/Shi'a) Muslim. If your interpretation is different from those two, then you can look forward to all sorts of verbal attacks, online or in person, when people find out you aren't Sunni or Shi'a. All of a sudden, they want to debate you with the same tiresome questions: "How do you know how to pray?" "How do you know how to fast Ramadan?" "How do you...." The list can go on forever. In the meantime, you're sitting there thinking "I don't want to debate. I'm tired of debating. I'm tired of people trying to undermine me as an intelligent person. I'm tired of being told to follow this scholar or that scholar. I'm tired of being told that I don't have a right to an opinion on anything because I'm not a scholar. All I wanted was to be around other Muslims and not have them impress their cultural-practices-passed-off-as-Islam on me. That's all."
As a result, even within a minority community (here in the US, at least), you're a minority. Looked down upon by others, judged, called names, and treated like you're carrying the plague, just because you don't conform to the local status quo in your deen.
Many people can't deal with that pressure. Some hide their interpretation behind a non-committal smile when approached and told to do something because "this scholar said" or "that school of thought says", all the while thinking "Just leave me alone and keep your superstitions and cultural baggage to yourself." Others avoid going to the mosque at all. Still others may just go back to their previous faith (or lack thereof), feeling like everything they'd been told about Islam and Muslims being welcoming and accepting and diverse was a lie.
I have resigned myself to never quite fitting in with most Muslims because of my approach to Islam, but I don't regret it. I know that this is the only deen for me. So when people say, in a way that's meant to convey their opinion that I'm lost, "May Allah guide you", I will simply smile and tell them "He did and He does".
I will work to eradicate the widespread notion of "Muslim = Foreign/Other/Bad" in wider society.
I will know that I'm not really alone, that there are wonderful people out there who share my perspective, who are just a mouse-click away.
And I will be content.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Ramadan Reflections
Salam aleikum, folks. I know that we're halfway through Ramadan already, but I figured I'd jot down a few notes to reflect on the month thus far.
Ramadan is the month of the Qur'an. I set a goal to read through the whole Qur'an in this month, because what better way to get close to Allah than to read His Guidance, right? Well, I've failed pretty miserably in that goal, but I am reminded that every day is another chance to set and meet my goals, inshAllah. While reading the whole Qur'an in this month would be totally cool, is it really necessary? What good does it do for me to read the Qur'an during Ramadan if I don't so much as take it off the shelf the rest of the year? (For the record, I do try to read even one ayah per day, so my Qur'ans don't collect dust.)
I know this month is supposed to be one of reflection, of evaluating my life and relationship with Allah, and seeking to improve both.
Frankly, I don't get that spiritual connection. I get hungry. I get thirsty. I get tired and have headaches and bizarre sleeping patterns. But that "amazing spiritual renewal" that you read and hear everyone talking about? I don't get it. I never have. What I *do* get is a feeling of depression. Not "I'm a wee bit blue", but a full-blown "getting dressed is too much work" kind of depression.
I'm sure that this situation is partly to do with lack of food/water (let's be honest, I spend a lot of time munching on snacks and drinking assorted beverages - something I don't realize until I'm fasting). And partly to do with the fact that I quit a job I hated, moved halfway across the country, and am now (once again) unemployed - this time in a tiny town where jobs are scarce - and have too many bills. Ramadan started just in time for me to spend it alone again this year. The closest masjid is an hour and a half away, and I was far less than impressed when I visited it the first jummah of Ramadan.
So I find myself spending my days sprawled on the couch -- sometimes in my pajamas the whole day -- watching torturous tv (have you seen "Man V. Food"? NOT the show you wanna watch while fasting... but I can't look away. FOOD!), maybe napping, and generally doing nothing beneficial or remotely related to spiritual things. I count the minutes until iftar, and wake up to eat suhoor in the dark by myself, then go back to sleep for a few hours. My life essentially revolves around the time that I can eat and drink again.
I had a brother tell me last year that he thinks perhaps Ramadan is less a "month of fasting", and more a time period of variable length in which we hit rock-bottom emotionally and spiritually and get to the point where we simply have to lean on Allah to make it through. I find his theory rather fascinating -- it would definitely explain how I feel during Ramadan -- I tend to be more literal and less philosophical in my approach. For my part, I don't like to analyze everything for deeper meanings. I think that, sometimes, a month is just a month. Fasting just means not eating or drinking. Salah just means praying. That sort of thing. I admire people who can take their study to such a deep level, but I like for some things to just be simple.
So, in the light of the depression I've faced both Ramadans I've attempted, how do I get that "Ramadan feeling" that everyone else is so elated about?
I don't know. But I've no doubt Allah will help me get there. When the going gets tough, the tough needs to crack open a Qur'an and just read.
Ramadan is the month of the Qur'an. I set a goal to read through the whole Qur'an in this month, because what better way to get close to Allah than to read His Guidance, right? Well, I've failed pretty miserably in that goal, but I am reminded that every day is another chance to set and meet my goals, inshAllah. While reading the whole Qur'an in this month would be totally cool, is it really necessary? What good does it do for me to read the Qur'an during Ramadan if I don't so much as take it off the shelf the rest of the year? (For the record, I do try to read even one ayah per day, so my Qur'ans don't collect dust.)
I know this month is supposed to be one of reflection, of evaluating my life and relationship with Allah, and seeking to improve both.
Frankly, I don't get that spiritual connection. I get hungry. I get thirsty. I get tired and have headaches and bizarre sleeping patterns. But that "amazing spiritual renewal" that you read and hear everyone talking about? I don't get it. I never have. What I *do* get is a feeling of depression. Not "I'm a wee bit blue", but a full-blown "getting dressed is too much work" kind of depression.
I'm sure that this situation is partly to do with lack of food/water (let's be honest, I spend a lot of time munching on snacks and drinking assorted beverages - something I don't realize until I'm fasting). And partly to do with the fact that I quit a job I hated, moved halfway across the country, and am now (once again) unemployed - this time in a tiny town where jobs are scarce - and have too many bills. Ramadan started just in time for me to spend it alone again this year. The closest masjid is an hour and a half away, and I was far less than impressed when I visited it the first jummah of Ramadan.
So I find myself spending my days sprawled on the couch -- sometimes in my pajamas the whole day -- watching torturous tv (have you seen "Man V. Food"? NOT the show you wanna watch while fasting... but I can't look away. FOOD!), maybe napping, and generally doing nothing beneficial or remotely related to spiritual things. I count the minutes until iftar, and wake up to eat suhoor in the dark by myself, then go back to sleep for a few hours. My life essentially revolves around the time that I can eat and drink again.
I had a brother tell me last year that he thinks perhaps Ramadan is less a "month of fasting", and more a time period of variable length in which we hit rock-bottom emotionally and spiritually and get to the point where we simply have to lean on Allah to make it through. I find his theory rather fascinating -- it would definitely explain how I feel during Ramadan -- I tend to be more literal and less philosophical in my approach. For my part, I don't like to analyze everything for deeper meanings. I think that, sometimes, a month is just a month. Fasting just means not eating or drinking. Salah just means praying. That sort of thing. I admire people who can take their study to such a deep level, but I like for some things to just be simple.
So, in the light of the depression I've faced both Ramadans I've attempted, how do I get that "Ramadan feeling" that everyone else is so elated about?
I don't know. But I've no doubt Allah will help me get there. When the going gets tough, the tough needs to crack open a Qur'an and just read.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
On Boston
I know it's been nearly two weeks since the bombing in Boston. I should've spoken sooner, but frankly, I've been sorting through the swirling maelstrom of emotions that have plagued me since then, sick at heart over what I've seen on tv and read in the news. My first thought, the moment I heard about it, was "Ya Allah, please please PLEASE don't let the people who did this claim to be Muslims."
To no avail.
The whispers began almost immediately: "Muslims." "Islam." "Foreign radicals." The faintest whisper and suspicion became a blanket guilty sentence on millions of people in the US.
Because we're Muslims, and when someone who claims to belong to us goes radical, we are "clearly to blame".
Let me break it down: We are tarred by that dark brush, guilty without a trial, guilty by association. Because we, along with 2 billion people in every country, speaking every language, in every culture, have a shared belief in Islam.
It took only hours before we started hearing of reprisal attacks: a woman out at the park with her child and a man punched her in the shoulder and screamed profanities at her. A man beaten up as he was leaving a restaurant by a group of men. The guy didn't even know about the bombings in Boston, but he was to blame because of his skin color ("looked Arab") and his faith.
What happened in Boston wasn't because of Islam. It wasn't because of Muslims. It wasn't because of tv or video games or movies. It happened because a twisted man had evil in his heart and acted on it.
It was heinous, wrong, evil, a complete violation of Qur'anic teachings and simple human decency. His wife, an American convert, is now being portrayed as brainwashed, stupid, ignorant, less than American. Some people act like her conversion was an act of treason instead of an act of faith.
Nothing will undo what happened in Boston, but we have a choice: we can honor those who lost their lives, help the wounded recover, grieve with those affected, and press forward, or we can allow hatred and bigotry to cloud our vision, darken our hearts, forget our shared humanity, and make us just one step away from being like Tamerlan Tsarnaev.
I know which path I choose. What about you?
To no avail.
The whispers began almost immediately: "Muslims." "Islam." "Foreign radicals." The faintest whisper and suspicion became a blanket guilty sentence on millions of people in the US.
Because we're Muslims, and when someone who claims to belong to us goes radical, we are "clearly to blame".
Let me break it down: We are tarred by that dark brush, guilty without a trial, guilty by association. Because we, along with 2 billion people in every country, speaking every language, in every culture, have a shared belief in Islam.
It took only hours before we started hearing of reprisal attacks: a woman out at the park with her child and a man punched her in the shoulder and screamed profanities at her. A man beaten up as he was leaving a restaurant by a group of men. The guy didn't even know about the bombings in Boston, but he was to blame because of his skin color ("looked Arab") and his faith.
What happened in Boston wasn't because of Islam. It wasn't because of Muslims. It wasn't because of tv or video games or movies. It happened because a twisted man had evil in his heart and acted on it.
It was heinous, wrong, evil, a complete violation of Qur'anic teachings and simple human decency. His wife, an American convert, is now being portrayed as brainwashed, stupid, ignorant, less than American. Some people act like her conversion was an act of treason instead of an act of faith.
Nothing will undo what happened in Boston, but we have a choice: we can honor those who lost their lives, help the wounded recover, grieve with those affected, and press forward, or we can allow hatred and bigotry to cloud our vision, darken our hearts, forget our shared humanity, and make us just one step away from being like Tamerlan Tsarnaev.
I know which path I choose. What about you?
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Hello, I'm Your Hijab
My name is hijab. Well, that's what most people call me. The word is a bit more encompassing than that, meaning also the rest of what you wear and, more importantly, your behavior, but we'll just stick to what most people mean by that word: I'm your headscarf. You wear me in different styles, like two-piece al-Amiras when it's time to hit the gym, or long shaylas for work, and in different colors. You seem to like shades of pink the most -- although I definitely like being black with rainbow tinsel. People compliment me a lot then.
I know you like being able to spot other Muslim women around town because of me. Maybe they don't always give you salams in return, but I have given you lots of chances to talk to curious people about who I am and why you wear me. I'm less of a dawah opportunity than a dialogue opportunity. In this world, where Muslim women are targets for attack in "retaliation" for what so-called "Muslims" perpetrate in their acts of terror, we NEED dialogue desperately.
I've taken on a role in recent decades that I never really wanted: people using me as a barometer to decide how pious and devout you are. I've got news for you, folks: I'm just a headscarf. A piece of cloth. I don't have magic powers (and, as Muslims, you shouldn't believe in magic, anyway -- that's superstition, which is a remnant of the jahiliyah). I don't make someone a "good" Muslim, and my absence doesn't make someone bad, immodest, or impious. You're forgetting an important fact: only Allah knows what's in the hearts and only He has the right to judge us.
When you decide that a woman wearing me is more pious than one who doesn't, and that one who wears me and an abaya is more pious than a woman who wears me with a t-shirt and jeans, and then a niqabi is more pious than the abaya-wearing hijabi, you're setting up a dangerous system of judgement. They might "look the part", but if you listen in, maybe you never hear them saying anything good about other people, just judging what they wear and how they wear it. They gossip, and their sharp tongues alienate sisters who feel unwelcome because they don't wear me. Then you wonder what happened to this sister or that sister, why they don't come to halaqah or the women's lecture or prayer class any more.
In short, you're dividing yourselves over me because you're forgetting what's really important: your mutual faith and belief in Allah. Love your sisters for who they are, not what they wear, because in the eyes of Allah they may be better than you.
It's time to go out now. I'm looking fabulous and have eyes to catch so people come talk to you. Peace out.
I know you like being able to spot other Muslim women around town because of me. Maybe they don't always give you salams in return, but I have given you lots of chances to talk to curious people about who I am and why you wear me. I'm less of a dawah opportunity than a dialogue opportunity. In this world, where Muslim women are targets for attack in "retaliation" for what so-called "Muslims" perpetrate in their acts of terror, we NEED dialogue desperately.
I've taken on a role in recent decades that I never really wanted: people using me as a barometer to decide how pious and devout you are. I've got news for you, folks: I'm just a headscarf. A piece of cloth. I don't have magic powers (and, as Muslims, you shouldn't believe in magic, anyway -- that's superstition, which is a remnant of the jahiliyah). I don't make someone a "good" Muslim, and my absence doesn't make someone bad, immodest, or impious. You're forgetting an important fact: only Allah knows what's in the hearts and only He has the right to judge us.
When you decide that a woman wearing me is more pious than one who doesn't, and that one who wears me and an abaya is more pious than a woman who wears me with a t-shirt and jeans, and then a niqabi is more pious than the abaya-wearing hijabi, you're setting up a dangerous system of judgement. They might "look the part", but if you listen in, maybe you never hear them saying anything good about other people, just judging what they wear and how they wear it. They gossip, and their sharp tongues alienate sisters who feel unwelcome because they don't wear me. Then you wonder what happened to this sister or that sister, why they don't come to halaqah or the women's lecture or prayer class any more.
In short, you're dividing yourselves over me because you're forgetting what's really important: your mutual faith and belief in Allah. Love your sisters for who they are, not what they wear, because in the eyes of Allah they may be better than you.
It's time to go out now. I'm looking fabulous and have eyes to catch so people come talk to you. Peace out.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Beyond the Pale and Dark: Islam, Muslims, and Race
"You can't be a Muslim. You're white."
"You can't come in our circle because you're white and we're all black."
I don't recall where the first comment came from, but it came from a non-Muslim.
The second came from a girl at the girls' halaqah at the masjid this past week. She's young, no older than 12 at most. It's one of those things where your mouth gets ahead of your brain, or where you try to make a joke, and it comes out not only flat, but sounding far worse than you intended it to.
It was a blessing, though, because it opened my eyes. I realised, for perhaps the first time since my conversion, that non-Muslims aren't the only ones with misconceptions about who Muslims are.
As often as I talk to people who think that you have to be Arab or black to be a Muslim, there are also Muslims who think I can't be a "real" Muslim because I'm NOT Arab or black.
Where, I wondered, did this child - for that's what she is - get the idea that you have to be "brown" to be a Muslim? At a guess, most people would say "her parents". Kids are like little sponges - they soak up whatever's around, and they have no filter to separate the bad from the good.
We all have been exposed to prejudice and racism at some point in our lives. Usually it comes from a parent or another family member.
I was in my dad's truck with my dad and brother. We were driving down a road in my hometown, and we saw a black man and white woman walking on the sidewalk. They were holding hands. My dad said "If you ever date a black man, I'll disown you."
I was seven. That was my abrupt realization that skin colors exist, and that some people think those with different color skin shouldn't be together, and even that dark-skinned people were "inferior" to white people.
It was my first exposure (in my memory) to prejudice. I've never forgotten it. When I recounted the story to my dad over 10 years later, he tried to laugh it off. To pretend he'd been joking. But I'd known he wasn't. After that, I had two choices. I could choose to see people as human beings, valuable and unique individuals, or I could see them as a skin color. Guess which one I chose?
As Muslims, we are taught that race doesn't matter, that one skin color isn't better than another.
"O people, We created you from a male and female, and We made you into nations and tribes, that you may know one another. Surely, the most honorable among you in the sight of God is the most righteous. God is Knowledgeable, Expert." Qur'an 49:13
"And among His Signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the variations
in your languages and your colors; verily in that are signs for those who know."
Quran 30:22
From the recorded Last Sermon:
"All men are equal in Islam. The Arab has no superiority over the non-Arab, nor does the non-Arab have superiority over the Arab, save in the fear of God."
(While I disregard the hadith at large, I do enjoy the last sermon, as it sums up what Muhammad spent 23 years of his life preaching. I find it utterly compatible with the Qur'an.)
If we are taught this, by both Allah through the Qur'an and also Muhammad, HOW can we claim that Islam is an exclusively Arab/black religion or that another person is somehow a "lesser" or "insincere" Muslim? When the Qur'an tells us that it is a guidance for all mankind, that Allah has completed his favor upon all humanity and named our religion as submission to Him, who are we to say otherwise? How can we look at ourselves in the mirror if we think our skin color (or language, sex, sexual orientation, religion, or anything else) makes us better than another person, also created by Allah?
Islam is not only for a certain group or groups. It is for everyone. It's for the black people, the white people, the Arab people, the Latino people, the Asian people. It's for everyone who seeks and finds peace in it. Cultivate an attitude that reflects acceptance for all, regardless of their skin color, tattoos, piercings, hair color, clothing, or anything else that makes them different from you. You never know whose heart may be opened by your welcoming attitude, or whose heart will turn to stone because of a thoughtless comment made.
My point is this: watch what you teach your kids. This includes Muslims. Kids won't get only the good and leave the bad. Prejudice is a learned attitude. We don't come with it pre-loaded on our brains.
"You can't come in our circle because you're white and we're all black."
I don't recall where the first comment came from, but it came from a non-Muslim.
The second came from a girl at the girls' halaqah at the masjid this past week. She's young, no older than 12 at most. It's one of those things where your mouth gets ahead of your brain, or where you try to make a joke, and it comes out not only flat, but sounding far worse than you intended it to.
It was a blessing, though, because it opened my eyes. I realised, for perhaps the first time since my conversion, that non-Muslims aren't the only ones with misconceptions about who Muslims are.
As often as I talk to people who think that you have to be Arab or black to be a Muslim, there are also Muslims who think I can't be a "real" Muslim because I'm NOT Arab or black.
Where, I wondered, did this child - for that's what she is - get the idea that you have to be "brown" to be a Muslim? At a guess, most people would say "her parents". Kids are like little sponges - they soak up whatever's around, and they have no filter to separate the bad from the good.
We all have been exposed to prejudice and racism at some point in our lives. Usually it comes from a parent or another family member.
I was in my dad's truck with my dad and brother. We were driving down a road in my hometown, and we saw a black man and white woman walking on the sidewalk. They were holding hands. My dad said "If you ever date a black man, I'll disown you."
I was seven. That was my abrupt realization that skin colors exist, and that some people think those with different color skin shouldn't be together, and even that dark-skinned people were "inferior" to white people.
It was my first exposure (in my memory) to prejudice. I've never forgotten it. When I recounted the story to my dad over 10 years later, he tried to laugh it off. To pretend he'd been joking. But I'd known he wasn't. After that, I had two choices. I could choose to see people as human beings, valuable and unique individuals, or I could see them as a skin color. Guess which one I chose?
As Muslims, we are taught that race doesn't matter, that one skin color isn't better than another.
"O people, We created you from a male and female, and We made you into nations and tribes, that you may know one another. Surely, the most honorable among you in the sight of God is the most righteous. God is Knowledgeable, Expert." Qur'an 49:13
"And among His Signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the variations
in your languages and your colors; verily in that are signs for those who know."
Quran 30:22
From the recorded Last Sermon:
"All men are equal in Islam. The Arab has no superiority over the non-Arab, nor does the non-Arab have superiority over the Arab, save in the fear of God."
(While I disregard the hadith at large, I do enjoy the last sermon, as it sums up what Muhammad spent 23 years of his life preaching. I find it utterly compatible with the Qur'an.)
If we are taught this, by both Allah through the Qur'an and also Muhammad, HOW can we claim that Islam is an exclusively Arab/black religion or that another person is somehow a "lesser" or "insincere" Muslim? When the Qur'an tells us that it is a guidance for all mankind, that Allah has completed his favor upon all humanity and named our religion as submission to Him, who are we to say otherwise? How can we look at ourselves in the mirror if we think our skin color (or language, sex, sexual orientation, religion, or anything else) makes us better than another person, also created by Allah?
Islam is not only for a certain group or groups. It is for everyone. It's for the black people, the white people, the Arab people, the Latino people, the Asian people. It's for everyone who seeks and finds peace in it. Cultivate an attitude that reflects acceptance for all, regardless of their skin color, tattoos, piercings, hair color, clothing, or anything else that makes them different from you. You never know whose heart may be opened by your welcoming attitude, or whose heart will turn to stone because of a thoughtless comment made.
My point is this: watch what you teach your kids. This includes Muslims. Kids won't get only the good and leave the bad. Prejudice is a learned attitude. We don't come with it pre-loaded on our brains.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Scary Stuff.
http://www.ksat.com/news/Neighbors-tell-of-strange-behavior-by-suspect-in-mosque-threat/-/478452/17581906/-/rfk3yf/-/index.html
This happened just a few days ago. Scary stuff, but the guy is currently in jail. CAIR is pressuring the authorities to increase the bail, which is set at $2,000 at the moment.
Allah is the best of protectors. Alhamdulillah that our community was protected before this evil man could gun down innocents, either worshipers at the mosque or the children and teachers at the Islamic Academy on the same property.
This happened just a few days ago. Scary stuff, but the guy is currently in jail. CAIR is pressuring the authorities to increase the bail, which is set at $2,000 at the moment.
Allah is the best of protectors. Alhamdulillah that our community was protected before this evil man could gun down innocents, either worshipers at the mosque or the children and teachers at the Islamic Academy on the same property.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Mistaken for Muslim
She said she watches it regularly
to remind herself
that there are people in the world
who don't see Muslims
as people.
We forget sometimes,
because we never forget
we're people.
If we forget anything,
it's that approximately half of Americans
say
they don't know any Muslims.
Half.
Of.
Americans.
Don't
know
any
Muslims
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Surah Ar-Rum (Surah 30)
This is the start of a new series of blog entries, inshAllah. This isn't going to be an analysis of Arabic grammar, vocabulary, or translation comparison, as I am no speaker or scholar of the Qur'anic Arabic language. Instead, I intend to point out chapters or verses that make an impression on me, for whatever reason, and share my perspective and understanding of them. Please keep in mind that these are strictly summaries of what I personally take away from each chapter, and that I am not wanting or requiring anyone to agree with me.
I am including a link to an online Qur'an so that you can read this chapter for yourself. It's not a long chapter.
http://www.free-minds.org/quran/PM/30
Starting with Surah al-Fatiha would be obvious, and it has been done many times over, so I thought I'd start with a chapter I randomly came across while reading Qur'an at the masjid:
Surah Ar-Rum (Surah 30: The Romans)
This surah begins with talking about the Romans. I've compared 30:2 in multiple translations, and they translate “Ar-Rum” as follows:
Abdallah Yusuf Ali: The Roman Empire
S.V. Mir Ahmed Ali: The (east) Romans
Ali Unal: The Byzantine Romans
Maulana Muhammad Ali: The Romans
Dr. Syed Vickar Ahamed: The Romans
Tarif Khalidi: The Byzantines
Muhsin Khan: The Romans
Ahmed Ali: The Romans
N.A. Dawood and A.J. Arberry depart from the Roman theme and instead translate Ar-Rum as “The Greeks” and “The Greek empire”. I wonder how they came to that conclusion? “Greek” and “Roman” aren't exactly interchangeable.
Most interestingly of all, Abdul Hye translates it as “The Romans (Christians)”. I'm intrigued by his whole translation of those verses, which read:
“30:2 The Romans (Christians) have been defeated (by the Persians – idol worshipers)
30:3 In the nearest land (of Syria), but after their defeat, they (Allah revealed to Muhammad that Romans) will be victorious
30:4 within a few years. Allah is in command with the matter before (the defeat of the Romans by the Persians in 615 CE) and after (the defeat of the Persians by the Romans in 625 CE). On that day the believers will rejoice (for victory).”
That, however, is a study for another time. The surah continues by stating that larger, stronger empires have fallen before because they denied the messengers/warners sent to them by Allah and were consumed by their own evil ways. This verse implies that it wasn't an act by Allah which deliberately destroyed them (the first example of deliberate acts that comes to my mind is of Sodom and Gammorah, destroyed by Allah for their corruption, idol worship, and unprecedented oppression), but that they basically self-destructed. I was left with the distinct impression that Allah simply did not get involved, but allowed them to destroy themselves through their actions.
Those who reject Allah after signs have come to them through the messengers/warners and continue to worship pagan gods are warned that what they worship will be revealed as false, that on the last day they will deny their gods and it won't avail them or change their fates.
The next verse moves into describing the reward for those who believe and do good, and transitions to a command to give glory to Allah in the morning and the evening and noon, and instructs those who believe to praise only Him. (Side note: It is from these verses (30:17-18) that many Quranists I know draw their belief that we are ordered to pray/worship 3 times per day, rather than the traditionalist Sunni/Shi'a 5 times.)
Verses 20 through 25 detail some of the signs in which we can recognize the existence of Allah:
20: Creation of humanity from dust and the scattering of people throughout the world.
21: Our spouses, with whom we are supposed to dwell in love and compassion.
22: Creation of the earth and all that is in it, and in the diversity of our languages and skin colors. (I read this verse as a refutation of the (unfortunately) prevalent attitude among Muslims that Arabic is a “special holy language” and “better than/superior to” other languages. It also refutes the notion that the Qur'an's message isn't communicable in other languages, as I've often heard claimed. Does it make sense that Allah would create so many languages and make it impossible for all but one to communicate His Revelation to mankind? Nope.)
23: Sleep coming to us at night, and our natural urge to seek Allah's grace/proof of a divine creator.
24: The weather (lightning, rain).
25: That the heavens and earth follow His commands, and that we will come out of our graves at His summons.
The above verses also stress reflection, seeking knowledge, listening, and understanding as conditions to us recognizing the signs. In other words, we have to actively put in the effort. Passivity or expecting to just “magically” have faith eventually won't work.
Verse 30 is a beautiful reminder: “So set your face uprightly for religion, in natural devotion to the truth, the nature caused by Allah in which He has made people; there can be no change in Allah's creation; this is the established religion, but most people do not know.”
Wow! People have a natural inclination towards truth, which is the nature of Allah.
We are reminded to fear and worship Allah alone and establish prayer (31), and also warned not to be polytheists, who divide up their religion into sects and think their specific way is the truth. Verses 33-36 speak of those who turn to Allah only in hardship, then go back to associating partners with Him (and these can be other gods, money, people, or other things of this world) when ease has come after the hardship. Basic message: Remember Allah and be grateful to Him, in ease or hardship. Don't forget where your blessings come from.
Verse 38 again urges us to charity, both to kin and strangers. The number of times charity is stressed in the Qur'an should clue us in as to how important it is to share what we've been blessed with, and reinforces the Qur'an as a book of action, meant to be implemented in our lives, not just read.
We are shown another sign of Allah's power, namely that He brings us to life, provides for us, causes us to die at our appointed term, then will raise us up again on the last day. Verse 44 reminds us that whatever we do in this life, be it good or bad, is for ourselves alone – there is no doing good deeds for others, even if they are family members, that will affect what they will get on the last day. (See also 6:164, 39:7)
The next verses detail examples of Allah's mercy (the wind, sailing of ships, rain, sunshine, giving life to the Earth after it has withered and died). An example of those who are “fair weather faithful” is given as those who see the silt blown from their crops by the wind, and turn from faith because of their misfortune. It is also stressed that we are tested with a portion of what we've done wrong in order to give us an opportunity to return to the straight path, particularly in the case of those with wealth. (41)
Verses 52 and 53: “For you cannot make the dead hear, nor can you make the deaf hear the call when they withdraw, turning upon their heels. Nor can you lead the blind away from straying; you cannot make anyone hear except those who believe in Our Signs, for they have submitted.”
Another amazing verse, alhamdilullah. This is something important to keep in mind: We can't change the hearts and minds of others, especially in cases where people are determined that They Are Right when it comes to religion and you are “wrong”.
Verse 58: “Indeed, We have set forth for people every kind of example in this Qur'an; yet if you bring a sign to them, those who disbelieve will certainly say: “You are bringing falsehood!”
We are assured, yet again, that the Qur'an is detailed and complete for our guidance, and also that those who refuse to believe would do so even if they had been shown a sign as proof, because their hearts are sealed.
Finally, (whew, almost done here, folks!), in verse 60:
“Be patient, therefore; verily the promise of Allah is true, and let not those who have no belief in Allah make you despair of His promise.”
What a beautiful reassurance. The promise of Allah is true, so keep the faith and don't let others cause you to doubt.
Until next time, inshAllah.
I am including a link to an online Qur'an so that you can read this chapter for yourself. It's not a long chapter.
http://www.free-minds.org/quran/PM/30
Starting with Surah al-Fatiha would be obvious, and it has been done many times over, so I thought I'd start with a chapter I randomly came across while reading Qur'an at the masjid:
Surah Ar-Rum (Surah 30: The Romans)
This surah begins with talking about the Romans. I've compared 30:2 in multiple translations, and they translate “Ar-Rum” as follows:
Abdallah Yusuf Ali: The Roman Empire
S.V. Mir Ahmed Ali: The (east) Romans
Ali Unal: The Byzantine Romans
Maulana Muhammad Ali: The Romans
Dr. Syed Vickar Ahamed: The Romans
Tarif Khalidi: The Byzantines
Muhsin Khan: The Romans
Ahmed Ali: The Romans
N.A. Dawood and A.J. Arberry depart from the Roman theme and instead translate Ar-Rum as “The Greeks” and “The Greek empire”. I wonder how they came to that conclusion? “Greek” and “Roman” aren't exactly interchangeable.
Most interestingly of all, Abdul Hye translates it as “The Romans (Christians)”. I'm intrigued by his whole translation of those verses, which read:
“30:2 The Romans (Christians) have been defeated (by the Persians – idol worshipers)
30:3 In the nearest land (of Syria), but after their defeat, they (Allah revealed to Muhammad that Romans) will be victorious
30:4 within a few years. Allah is in command with the matter before (the defeat of the Romans by the Persians in 615 CE) and after (the defeat of the Persians by the Romans in 625 CE). On that day the believers will rejoice (for victory).”
That, however, is a study for another time. The surah continues by stating that larger, stronger empires have fallen before because they denied the messengers/warners sent to them by Allah and were consumed by their own evil ways. This verse implies that it wasn't an act by Allah which deliberately destroyed them (the first example of deliberate acts that comes to my mind is of Sodom and Gammorah, destroyed by Allah for their corruption, idol worship, and unprecedented oppression), but that they basically self-destructed. I was left with the distinct impression that Allah simply did not get involved, but allowed them to destroy themselves through their actions.
Those who reject Allah after signs have come to them through the messengers/warners and continue to worship pagan gods are warned that what they worship will be revealed as false, that on the last day they will deny their gods and it won't avail them or change their fates.
The next verse moves into describing the reward for those who believe and do good, and transitions to a command to give glory to Allah in the morning and the evening and noon, and instructs those who believe to praise only Him. (Side note: It is from these verses (30:17-18) that many Quranists I know draw their belief that we are ordered to pray/worship 3 times per day, rather than the traditionalist Sunni/Shi'a 5 times.)
Verses 20 through 25 detail some of the signs in which we can recognize the existence of Allah:
20: Creation of humanity from dust and the scattering of people throughout the world.
21: Our spouses, with whom we are supposed to dwell in love and compassion.
22: Creation of the earth and all that is in it, and in the diversity of our languages and skin colors. (I read this verse as a refutation of the (unfortunately) prevalent attitude among Muslims that Arabic is a “special holy language” and “better than/superior to” other languages. It also refutes the notion that the Qur'an's message isn't communicable in other languages, as I've often heard claimed. Does it make sense that Allah would create so many languages and make it impossible for all but one to communicate His Revelation to mankind? Nope.)
23: Sleep coming to us at night, and our natural urge to seek Allah's grace/proof of a divine creator.
24: The weather (lightning, rain).
25: That the heavens and earth follow His commands, and that we will come out of our graves at His summons.
The above verses also stress reflection, seeking knowledge, listening, and understanding as conditions to us recognizing the signs. In other words, we have to actively put in the effort. Passivity or expecting to just “magically” have faith eventually won't work.
Verse 30 is a beautiful reminder: “So set your face uprightly for religion, in natural devotion to the truth, the nature caused by Allah in which He has made people; there can be no change in Allah's creation; this is the established religion, but most people do not know.”
Wow! People have a natural inclination towards truth, which is the nature of Allah.
We are reminded to fear and worship Allah alone and establish prayer (31), and also warned not to be polytheists, who divide up their religion into sects and think their specific way is the truth. Verses 33-36 speak of those who turn to Allah only in hardship, then go back to associating partners with Him (and these can be other gods, money, people, or other things of this world) when ease has come after the hardship. Basic message: Remember Allah and be grateful to Him, in ease or hardship. Don't forget where your blessings come from.
Verse 38 again urges us to charity, both to kin and strangers. The number of times charity is stressed in the Qur'an should clue us in as to how important it is to share what we've been blessed with, and reinforces the Qur'an as a book of action, meant to be implemented in our lives, not just read.
We are shown another sign of Allah's power, namely that He brings us to life, provides for us, causes us to die at our appointed term, then will raise us up again on the last day. Verse 44 reminds us that whatever we do in this life, be it good or bad, is for ourselves alone – there is no doing good deeds for others, even if they are family members, that will affect what they will get on the last day. (See also 6:164, 39:7)
The next verses detail examples of Allah's mercy (the wind, sailing of ships, rain, sunshine, giving life to the Earth after it has withered and died). An example of those who are “fair weather faithful” is given as those who see the silt blown from their crops by the wind, and turn from faith because of their misfortune. It is also stressed that we are tested with a portion of what we've done wrong in order to give us an opportunity to return to the straight path, particularly in the case of those with wealth. (41)
Verses 52 and 53: “For you cannot make the dead hear, nor can you make the deaf hear the call when they withdraw, turning upon their heels. Nor can you lead the blind away from straying; you cannot make anyone hear except those who believe in Our Signs, for they have submitted.”
Another amazing verse, alhamdilullah. This is something important to keep in mind: We can't change the hearts and minds of others, especially in cases where people are determined that They Are Right when it comes to religion and you are “wrong”.
Verse 58: “Indeed, We have set forth for people every kind of example in this Qur'an; yet if you bring a sign to them, those who disbelieve will certainly say: “You are bringing falsehood!”
We are assured, yet again, that the Qur'an is detailed and complete for our guidance, and also that those who refuse to believe would do so even if they had been shown a sign as proof, because their hearts are sealed.
Finally, (whew, almost done here, folks!), in verse 60:
“Be patient, therefore; verily the promise of Allah is true, and let not those who have no belief in Allah make you despair of His promise.”
What a beautiful reassurance. The promise of Allah is true, so keep the faith and don't let others cause you to doubt.
Until next time, inshAllah.
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