On one Friday, he was suddenly hit by a novel idea. “Why don’t I just try Friday prayer today? Just to see what it’s like? I’ll just try it,” the man thought. He came in late to the masjid; The Khatib (speaker) was already speaking. As the man was looking for a place to sit, he heard the words of the Khatib, “The Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) has told us:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’” (Bukhari)

The man, preoccupied with having just entered and finding a place to sit, only heard a few of the Khatib’s words. He sat, perplexed, turning the fragmented words over and over in his mind, “Kalimatan (two words)… habibatan (both beloved)… ila-Rahman (to The Merciful)… Subhan Allahi wa bihamdi (Glory be to Allah and by His praise)… Subhan Allah il-`atheem (Glory be to Allah, the Immense).” He had lost complete focus on the rest of the khutbah (sermon), overtaken by these words he had heard in passing, working hard to make sense of what the words could possibly mean.

After the prayer, he approached the Khatib directly. “Is all what you’ve said in the khutbah today true?” he questioned. Surprised, the Khatib responded, “I’ve said quite a bit in the khutbah today. To what specifically are you referring?” The man replied, “You said some words… Kalimatan… habibatan… ila–Rahman… Subhan Allahi wa bi hamdih, subhan Allah il-`atheem.”

The Khatib smiled in recognition. “Yes, those are in fact from a blessed hadith (narration) from The Truthful himself ﷺ. He told us:

 كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’” (Bukhari)

The man stood, overwhelmed, awestruck, in a daze. The words had penetrated through his heart and embraced his soul. Captivated, he continued to repeat the hadith of the Prophet ﷺ over and over to himself:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

He walked out of the masjid in a trance and left for his home. Upon entering, he gathered his wife and children. “Have you heard,” he began to tell them, “the words of the Prophet ﷺ? He has told us:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

From that moment, the man transformed. From his home, he would leave to work, from his work, he would go straight to the Masjid, and from the Masjid, he would immediately go back home to his wife and children. All the while, two words kept his lips moving and his tongue wet with remembrance, “Subhan Allahi wa bihamdi, Subhan Allah il-`atheem.”

Soon, his friends from the Hookah Café noticed his continued absence. They came to his apartment one day. “Where have you been?” they asked. “We haven’t seen you smokin’ hookah with us for a while.”

A beautiful, wistful look came over the man’s face. “Haven’t you heard?” He replied to his old crew from the café, “The Prophet ﷺ has told us:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

And this is how he spent his days; reminding his family, his friends, those in the masjid and those who passed by in the streets, about the beloved words to Allah, those heavy words on the scale, those words light on the tongue, “Subhan Allahi wa bihamdi, subhan Allah il-`atheem.” The man had gone from a person who never prayed, spent little time with family and frequented the house of hookah instead of the House of Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He), to a person who longed for Allah (swt), whose eyes were filled with tears, whose tongue, heart, and soul burned with the inscription:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

Soon, he fell ill. It had only been a few months since he had gone to the masjid, since he had first heard the beloved words of the Prophet ﷺ by the Khatib in a Jumu`ah (Friday) khutbah. He told his son to go and to ask the Masjid administration to call upon that very Khatib to come visit him in his illness.

When he was informed, the Khatib remembered the man immediately and rushed to his apartment. Upon being let in, he saw the man, sleeping in his bed, the doctor sitting at his side. The Khatib sat at the foot of the bed and waited for the man to awaken. Finally, the man stirred and he noticed, at the foot of his bed, the very Khatib who had related the beloved, noble words of the Prophet ﷺ.

The man looked at the Khatib. He then asked him, “Have you heard? The Prophet ﷺ has told us:

كلمتان خفيفتان على اللسان ، ثقيلتان في الميزان، حبيبتان إلى الرحمن: سبحان الله وبحمده، سبحان الله العظيم

“Two words are light on the tongue, heavy in the balance, beloved to the Merciful: ‘Glory be to Allah and by His praise. Glory be to Allah, the Immense.’”

With that, the man passed away.

The Khatib in this story is the teacher of my Arabic teacher. My Arabic teacher related this incident to me and continued to stress that it wasn’t a story from books of the past, it wasn’t a story coined to tug hearts, it was the true story of a man who was completely disconnected from Allah (swt), but to whom Allah (swt) gave a passing thought to enter the masjid, and who Allah (swt) blessed with hearing the words of the Prophet ﷺ at a time and in a way which truly impacted his soul and final actions in life.

My teacher then told me, “The Prophet ﷺ has said: ‘Convey from me, even if it’s just one ayah [verse]…’” (Bukhari).

We never know what word or action, done with a sincere intention, will truly be a means of impacting another person’s life to come back to Allah (swt).

Let’s stop judging people; let’s stop driving people out of mosques because “we” deem their dress, their swagger, their accessories, or language as something “unsuitable” to the House of God. Let’s stop assuming they’ll never be guided to “our righteous path” (since we’re so righteous, we guided our own selves, right?) and thus resolve to harsh words or disapproving stares. Perhaps those who “we” think are far from Allah (swt) will pass in a more honorable, beloved state to the One Who guides.

Let us be the first to cling to the beloved words to Allah (swt), “Subhan Allahi wa bihamdih, subhan Allah il-`atheem,” and let us warmly, sincerely and smile-fully be a means of helping ourselves and others come back to Allah (swt)—with His Power and Mercy—through relating the beautiful words of Allah (swt) and His Prophet ﷺ, through action and speech. We never know what small, miniscule act, may be a means of guidance for ourselves and another, and a means of possibly entering jannatul firdose al `alaa bi ghayri hisaab—The Highest Paradise, without any reckoning.

May Allah (swt) bless this man’s soul. Subhan Allah—if he had died like any other person who knows about the obligation of prayer and lazily defies praying, we would never know his story—he’d just be another person who passed away in another country, a person we may have never even known existed..

But perhaps because of his repentance and his sincere coming back to Allah (swt), Allah has blessed us with coming to know of him—so that his actions will continue to be rewarded even while he’s in his grave, every single time any one of us, because of his story, even across the world, remember to say, “Subhan Allahi wa bihamdi, subhan Allah il-`atheem.”

What will you do—so sincerely—that Allah (swt) will bless people with being transformed because of you, even after you’ve passed on?

Photo: Matt Carman

Originally posted in 2007.

What do you think of when you see a Muslim doing something considered wrong?

Ever look down on them? Think you are better than them? It’s really easy to be self-righteous. It’s even easier to fall prey to this attitude if you sport the outer ‘righteous’ look.

But let’s ask ourselves this question: has Allah written us amongst His righteous servants? Or is that a title we have only given ourselves?

Check this:

I was once sitting at the da`wah (outreach) table on my college campus and a female student approached it. She asked if she could have a Qur’an, and of course, I was happy to give one to her. Then she said, “Can I ask you a question?”  The question sounded kind of deep, so I invited her to sit next to me on the empty chair. She took up the offer.

“Please don’t judge me,” she began. SubhanAllah (glory be to God)! The courage it must have taken for her to come and speak to me, for her to begin with that statement.

After reassuring her, how could I judge her? She began—

She told me that she was Muslim and she became involved in a relationship for the first time in her life with a Muslim guy. Her intention was for long term, but she felt so terrible doing it. She told me when she is with her boyfriend, she feels horrible, even though she thinks she is supposed to feel good. She told me that she knows that this is such a big sin, that she wants to stop, but that it is just so, so hard. And she asked me: Can Allah forgive me?

While this girl was speaking, I was looking at her thinking: look at the struggle she is going through for the sake of God. She hates what she is doing because she knows it’s something He would not be pleased with, she wants so much for God to forgive her, but it is so hard for her to leave what she knows she shouldn’t do.

Her desire to repent became so intense that she came to me, a girl she has never even seen before, who could easily judge her, and poured out her heart. She was so desperate in her wanting to know: Could Allah forgive her? Could He really forgive such a sin?

I told her—man, God is THE MOST MERCIFUL! He will forgive ANYTHING when you turn to Him! I kept telling her about God’s Mercy, about how He is so, so happy to accept the repentance of His creation.

We kept talking about how God must be pleased with her internal struggle because she clearly wants to gain His pleasure despite her difficulty. We looked at the Holy Hadith, where God talks about us and says:

“O child of Adam, so long as you call upon Me and ask of Me, I shall forgive you for what you have done, and I shall not mind. O child of Adam, were your sins to reach the clouds of the sky and were you then to ask forgiveness of Me, I would forgive you. O child of Adam, were you to come to Me with sins nearly as great as the earth and were you then to face Me, ascribing no partner to Me, I would bring you forgiveness nearly as great as it.” (Ahmad)

She was overwhelmed with emotion. I then shared with her a supplication that, if said with firm belief in the morning or evening, and if death happens on that day or night, the person who said it would be amongst the people of Paradise.

The Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon us) taught us the chief supplication (sayyidul istighfaar) of asking for forgiveness as follows:

اللَّهُمَّ أَنْتَ رَبِّي لا إِلَهَ إِلا أَنْتَ خَلَقْتَنِي وَأَنَا عَبْدُكَ وَأَنَا عَلَى عَهْدِكَ وَوَعْدِكَ مَا اسْتَطَعْتُ أَعُوذُ بِكَ مِنْ شَرِّ مَا صَنَعْتُ أَبُوءُ لَكَ بِنِعْمَتِكَ عَلَيَّ وَأَبُوءُ لَكَ بِذَنْبِي فَاغْفِرْ لِي فَإِنَّهُ لا يَغْفِرُ الذُّنُوبَ إِلا أَنْتَ

Allahumma anta rabbi, la ilaha illa anta, khalaqtani wa ana abduka [if you’re a male]/amatuk [if you’re a female], wa ana ‘ala `ahdika wa wa`dika mastata`tu. A`udhu bika min sharri ma sana`tu, abu’u laka bini`matika ‘alaiya, wa abu’u laka bidhanbi, faghfirli, fainnahu la yaghfiru adhdhunuba illa ant.

O Allah! You are my Lord! None has the right to be worshipped but You. You created me and I am Your slave, and I am faithful to my covenant and my promise as much as I can. I seek refuge with You from all the evil I have done. I acknowledge before You all the blessings You have bestowed upon me, and I confess to You all my sins. So I entreat You to forgive my sins, for nobody can forgive sins except You. (Bukhari)

And of course, the most intimate way of feeling close to Allah is to come to Him, from the depths of one’s heart, in the language easiest for oneself, with the words coming from one’s own soul, asking for His forgiveness.

Reflect

I want you to go back to your original answer when I first posed the question. What would you be thinking of someone you see doing something you feel is wrong?

Yes, in that moment, that person might be outwardly sinning if that is what they are doing, but perhaps internally they are struggling and fighting every time they commit the sin, and are continually seeking to turn back to God. Perhaps in some people’s eyes, this person is a ‘sinner’ (and who amongst us is not?). But perhaps in the Sight of Allah, they are more beloved to Him because of their sincere struggle, than those of us who can easily fall into feeling arrogant about our Islamic activism, our Islamic appearance, or our ‘hard-core’ connection with Rabb il`alameen  (the Lord of the Worlds). We need to be careful. Are we really connected? Am I really connected?

And don’t get me wrong: the struggle of those who are trying to stay upright and please God Almighty is a weighty, honorable and noble one.

But for those of us who might have ‘been there’ and left it, and then feel arrogant that we’re no longer involved in the “ways of the sinners,” and perhaps even might feel better than others because we’re so pure and special, then my advice to myself is what Omar  radi allahu `anhu (may God be pleased with him) advised, “Take account of yourselves before you are audited.”

Or in the words of Ice Cube, “Check yourself before you wreck yourself.”

Originally published in February 2011.

By Sohaib Saeed

Online pursuits are consuming an increasing amount of time of young people, and no less the Muslims. Those among the 500 million global users of Facebook (FB) know how it functions as a platform for many of these activities (such as news, entertainment, correspondence, campaigning, da`wah), going far beyond its description of a social networking site.

As an avid Facebook user of a few years, I have tasted its fruits but also experienced the sickness of excess and felt the danger of getting lost among the trees. Whenever Muslims are faced with a new environment, they enter it carrying their principles with them. We also need a sound understanding (fiqh) of the realities of this environment and how to handle some of its specifics.

If I dwell here on the potential and actual problems with Muslims’ use of Facebook, that is not to de-emphasize the great things that can be done with it. I say this just a week after a dictator fell from power in Egypt, with social media playing its role.

Fittingly, the genesis of this article was a series of short FB statuses I posted over 2010, each of which generated interesting discussion from friends, family, colleagues, acquaintances and contacts (all of whom are designated by FB as “Friends”). Here, I shall address a few of the most crucial aspects for the conscious user to consider, with a few quotes from the original “Facebook Fiqh” series.

A Question of Time

If time is life, then Facebook is many people’s favorite weapon of suicide. We struggle to find time to seek beneficial knowledge, yet trivial comments about trivial matters get more than their fair share. Someone remarked on Imam Suhaib Webb’s FB “wall” that we check out people’s latest FB updates more frequently than we check our Qur’an to take benefits from its verses. That remark inspired the following status update:

Sohaib Saeed wants a “Like” button in his mus-haf (written text of the Qu’ran) next to each ayah. “Like OMG that’s so true!” 😉

In a recent discussion with some students of Islamic sciences, we wondered aloud how the great scholars of the past managed to be so prolific in their writings, and how they managed to utilize every moment of their – often quite short – lives. Someone raised the point that nowadays we do indeed manage to write a lot, but it is mostly spent on trivial discussions and debates. The angels are writing down all the useless things we say in our days and nights. What do you think if you gathered all the comments (other than social niceties) that you have left on Facebook and other such forums? For many of us, it would add up to at least a small book.

The technological aspects of Facebook, particularly with its ever-updating interface, can have an intoxicating effect. It is built upon the principle of maximal stimulation of the eyes and brain; it is not far from the imagination to compare it with hypnosis. All this has a long-term effect on the mind and on the spiritual heart. This is why our attitude to such time-consuming activities is to use them for a purpose (even if that purpose be recreation), and not allowing it to eat into time better spent on other things. For some, this may mean taking conscious note of how often they open the page, and how long is spent on each visit.

What are the signs of excess? Specialists in addiction can list a few, but let me point out one thing that I believe is frighteningly common. I noticed once that when Twitter went down for a few hours then resumed, someone commented on the experience, writing: “When Twitter went down, all I wanted to do was tweet about it!” Ridiculous, yet I would suggest that it is quite representative of a common urge to use these media as a natural outlet for all our thoughts, desires and emotions. As I once wrote:

“We express our thoughts in the form of a status update instead of turning to Allah with our fears and joys. The day of a believer should be a constant conversation with God.”

Is this constant babble not a blatant distraction from the remembrance of Allah? Yes, even when we are reading and forwarding religious content, if we do so with hearts unaware. To quote from Shaykh Abdallah Adhami’s FB comment: “By all means: share, post, sms, blog, im, email, tweet… (though most importantly, internalize)”. This is the point! If you read a supplication with your eyes, it is no use if your tongue remains dry and your heart remains silent. Is reading a du`a’ (supplication) anything like making du`a’? Many times, we write such things robotically in the same way we type “LOL” with a completely straight face. I won’t go so far as to call it lying, but it certainly is bizarre when you ponder on it!

Clicking “Like” is not a sign of commitment any more than saying “I love Allah.” The Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) was commanded to say, “If you should love Allah, then follow me, [so] Allah will love you and forgive you your sins. And Allah is Forgiving and Merciful” (Qur’an 3:31). Our Islam is built on actions, not mere declarations.

Public and Private

Let’s be in no doubt that FB is a public space, though certain aspects (messaging) allow one-to-one communication. Even things you post on your own wall will come up on your friends’ homepages. Therefore, rather than merely decorating your home awaiting their arrival, you are actually dropping in on them every time you post something.

“If Facebook is like a public street, doesn’t it have rights? The first is lowering the gaze: not just from unseemly images, but from everything that doesn’t concern you. Think about it as hundreds of conversations are presented before you.”

The above FB Fiqh advice was based on a hadith (report concerning the Prophet ﷺ) reported in Sahih Muslim, in which Allah’s Messenger ﷺ questioned some people sitting in the road and instructed them to avoid doing so.  When these Companions explained their purpose, the Prophet ﷺ said: “If you must sit, then fulfill the rights of the road: lower your gaze, respond to greetings and talk in a good manner.”

Not only does Facebook make it all too easy to look at pictures of members of the opposite sex and personal details we have no business knowing, but it makes it tempting to pore through threads of comments that at best, are a complete waste our time, and at worst, involve a level of prying. Just as we take responsibility for what we post, we should also be ethical in what we access. Ask yourself: if that group of friends were chatting amongstthemselves, would I feel right standing nearby and listening in?

Many of the problems with people’s Facebook usage stem from the confusion between public and private spaces. Consider a few such cases:

1. Saying aloud what ought to have been silent, or sharing with everyone what belongs to a certain group.

Such a public forum is not the ideal place for potentially confusing ideas – such as controversial questions of theology – to be shared, as people without the relevant background knowledge may get the wrong idea.

Moreover, Facebook is not the place to develop your thoughts, wondering aloud with things that could cause others to doubt. If you have a question, direct it to someone who knows. If you’re working on an idea, try keeping a private journal.

Most importantly, beware of spreading unsubstantiated rumors. If in doubt, clarify and make certain of the reality, as the Qur’an (49:6) instructs. The following is also a thinking point:

The Prophet ﷺ said: “It is enough of a lie for a person to narrate everything he hears.” (Sahih Muslim) So how about one who narrates every fleeting thought he hears from his self?

In short: before posting anything, ask yourself “Why?” – is it something that will be of interest or benefit to those who will read it?

2. Doing things shamelessly in front of respected people and near-strangers.

Examples of this include using bad language, or writing flirtatious things in plain sight of people who could make hasty – possibly unfair – judgments. Perhaps someone would suggest that writing on the FB wall of someone of the opposite gender is more appropriate than a private message, but that is only true if the public nature of the communication does not become an excuse for a lack of etiquette.

People are clicking “Like” for the craziest things, associating themselves sometimes with immoral and unethical people and ideas, and promoting this on the newsfeeds of all their friends. It would be wise to slow down and think, if only for the following reason:

Be careful whom you love and “Like” – do you want them by your side on Judgment Day? The Prophet ﷺ said: “You are with whomever you love.” (Bukhari & Muslim)

Another common sight is photos of sinful activities, with Muslim friends pictured in compromising positions. Rather than uploading and tagging photos of these lapses, the right course of action is immediate repentance, as in the hadith: “All my nation are safe except those who publicise their sins. A servant does an evil deed by night, and wakes up having Allah’s cover upon him. Then he tells someone, ‘I did such-and-such last night!’ – He went to bed with Allah providing him cover, and woke up to throw off Allah’s cover.” (Bukhari & Muslim)

Privacy in general is a major and widely discussed issue of concern regarding Facebook, so a Muslim should be even more aware of the issue. Both sisters and brothers need to beware of broadcasting details that could be misused, and especially pictures in which they are more exposed than they ought to be in public. Even a “private” FB album is never truly private, when you think about it.

These few thoughts on Facebook Fiqh are by no means exhaustive, but I hope they provide a starting point to a greater consciousness and care when using new technology and emerging media.

There is a story in the Qur’an that we are seldom told about. Before revealing the ayah (verse), let us understand the context in which it was revealed. The Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) had lived in Madina for about two years before this incident occurred. The situation in Madina was very different to Makkah, as were the demographics. There were two tribes—al-Aws and al-Khazraj—as well as hypocrites, and three Jewish tribes. Al-Aws and al-Khazraj had a troubled history. Though they accepted Islam, tensions sometimes flared between them.

A man from al-Aws named Rafa’ bin Nu’man was awarded a shield of armor from a battle in which they were victorious. Armor was considered precious at that time as not many people were able to acquire it. But two days later, his armor was stolen. Rafa’s cousin, Qatada, said that he saw a man named Ta’ma bin Ubayriq steal the armor. Ta’ma was from Khazraj, and he was a new Muslim.

To ascertain the truth, the Prophet ﷺ sent people to look in Ta’ma’s house. The armor was not there. People from the tribe of Khazraj said that it was a Jewish man who stole the armor. So they went and checked in his house, and found it buried in the backyard. The Prophet ﷺ was mad at Qatada. How could he accuse someone, and a Muslim no less, of theft?

In any case it seemed that the matter was solved. The Muslims prayed `Isha (evening prayer) together.

But something happened. Allah, subhanahu wa ta`ala, sent the Angel Gabriel to the Prophetﷺ to declare that the Jewish man was innocent, and it was indeed Ta’ma who stole the armor. Allah (swt) revealed in the Qur’an:

“Indeed, We have revealed to you, [O Muhammad], the Book in truth so you may judge between the people by that which Allah has shown you. And do not be for the deceitful an advocate.

And seek forgiveness of Allah. Indeed, Allah is ever Forgiving and Merciful.

And do not argue on behalf of those who deceive themselves. Indeed, Allah loves not one who is a habitually sinful deceiver.

They conceal [their evil intentions and deeds] from the people, but they cannot conceal [them] from Allah , and He is with them [in His knowledge] when they spend the night in such as He does not accept of speech. And ever is Allah, of what they do, encompassing.

Here you are – those who argue on their behalf in [this] worldly life – but who will argue with Allah for them on the Day of Resurrection, or who will [then] be their representative?

And whoever does a wrong or wrongs himself but then seeks forgiveness of Allah will find Allah Forgiving and Merciful.

And whoever commits a sin only earns it against himself. And Allah is ever Knowing and Wise.

But whoever earns an offense or a sin and then blames it on an innocent [person] has taken upon himself a slander and manifest sin.

And if it was not for the favor of Allah upon you, [O Muhammad], and His mercy, a group of them would have determined to mislead you. But they do not mislead except themselves, and they will not harm you at all. And Allah has revealed to you the Book and wisdom and has taught you that which you did not know. And ever has the favor of Allah upon you been great.” (Qur’an, 4:105-113)

Ta’ma had stolen the armor. He told some of his relatives, and they all conspired with him to protect him. But Allah (swt) knows all. And Allah, al-`Adl, revealed these verses before fajr (morning prayer) so that the Prophet ﷺ could declare it after prayers.

The Jewish man did not accept Islam. This is important to point out. Allah is al-`Adl, and He is the Most Just. He commands us to be just for the sake of it, not for the reason to convert people to Islam. Da`wah (inviting people to Islam) is important, but justice is established because Allah (swt) commands us to do so.

Allah is al-`Adl

This story highlights to us Allah’s justice. The issue was not about tribes, or Muslims vs. non-Muslims. Allah’s justice is true justice; it does not favor any ‘group’—only the group that establishes His justice. Indeed, this is why one of Allah’s Names is al-`Adl, and according to an-Nabulsi, it is a Name that the entire ummah (Muslim community) agrees upon. While we touched briefly upon this Name in a previous article, we will go into detail here. `Adl comes from the root `a-d-l (ع-د-ل) which means to make something upright; it is the opposite of transgression.  Al-Ghazali explains to us Al-`Adl means “one who is Just, and He is one from whom just action emanates, the opposite of injustice and oppression.”

We see manifestations of Allah’s justice both in this world and the Next. That said, not everything will see the justice that we expect in this world, or in the time that we want. We might live to see the demise of the Pharoah, and we might not. But at the same time, while it might seem that the person committing the injustice has ‘won’, we need to look beyond the superficial. We do not know what Allah (swt) has written for the unjust after he dies, nor do we know what spiritual nourishment this person has been denied because of his transgressions. Moreover, when it comes to injustice, we need to reflect inwardly. We sometimes fail to uphold our covenant to Him. Allah (swt) has commanded us to be just, but we do not act in such a way. We allow those small transgressions in our daily lives, and only complain when something affects us. This can even be at the lowest of levels; do we believe rumors about people without being absolutely certain about the evidence? Do you give people the chance to explain themselves?

A Muslims, as servants of al-`Adl, we can never ever give up on striving for justice on all levels. Allah (swt) in the Qur’an says:

“O you who have believed, be persistently standing firm for Allah, witnesses in justice, and do not let the hatred of a people prevent you from being just. Be just; that is nearer to righteousness. And fear Allah; indeed, Allah is Acquainted with what you do.” (Qur’an, 5:8)

Ibn Taymiya is even reported to have said that Allah (swt) will protect a just nation even if it were not Muslim, and He would bring down an unjust nation even if it were Muslim. So crucial is the principle of justice to our faith that Allah (swt) also says:

“O you who have believed, be persistently standing firm in justice, witnesses for Allah, even if it be against yourselves or parents and relatives. Whether one is rich or poor, Allah is more worthy of both. So follow not [personal] inclination, lest you not be just. And if you distort [your testimony] or refuse [to give it], then indeed Allah is ever, with what you do, Acquainted.”  (Qur’an, 4:135)

Allah tells us to uphold justice even if it were against our families or even our own selves. When we understand that Allah (swt) has Named Himself the Most Just, it should reassure our hearts that even if we do not see justice now, there will be justice eventually. Moreover, it should push us to strive to establish justice, because we are servants of the Most Just.

Connecting to this Name

1—Commit yourself to justice

Justice is at many levels, and true submission to the Most Just is to work for justice at all levels:

• With yourself: Al-Ghazali states that justice concerning yourself means to put your “passion and anger under the guidance of reason and religion; for as soon as he puts reason in the service of passion and anger, he will certainly commit injustice.” Every time we transgress—by crossing the limits of Allah—we harm ourselves. Even if we do not see the immediate effects, these things affect us spiritually. So be just with yourself.
• With your family: We know that charity starts at home, but so does justice. We cannot be unjust to our siblings, abusive towards our spouse, or unfair in the treatment of our children, and claim to be servants of the Most Just.
• With your community: The Prophet ﷺ told us, “The believer who mixes with people and patiently bears their annoyance will have a greater reward than the believer who does not mix with people and patiently bear their annoyance,” (Tirmidhi). It may sometimes be disheartening to deal with a community that only gives lip service to the principles of justice, but this is Islam: to strive for justice when it is most difficult; to continually improve; and be just not only to humans, but to the environment and to the animals. It applies as much to the rejection of gossip as it does to establish equitable mosques where all members of the congregation are respected.
• With the wider society: As we have heard many times, justice is not “just us”. The Prophet ﷺ stood with the oppressed in his society before they became Muslim. He ﷺ was witness to a treaty when he was young that guaranteed the rights of the weak, and said that if Quraish had offered to sign such a treaty with him, he would accept.
• For Allah (swt): Being committed to justice at all these levels for the sake of Allah (swt) means that we cannot transgress. We do not choose our ‘group’ over others. Allah is the Truth and the Most Just, and thus we need to seek Truth and Justice in all our interactions, even if it were against ourselves.

2—Always remain hopeful

When you see a situation that is unjust and feel helpless to change it, remember that Allah (swt) is the source of justice. Nothing passes without His knowledge and there will be ultimate justice.

3—Be certain that He is the Most Just

Al-Ghazali says, “Man’s religious gain from his believing that God—great and glorious—is just lies in not taking objection to Him in His plan, His decree and all of His actions, whether they correspond to his will or not. For all that is just: it is as it should be and how it should be.” Al-Ghazali reminds us that sometimes we do not know the alternative to what seems to be a big injustice. Indeed, He (swt) knows the unseen.

4- Be Merciful

Just like, when it comes to our sins, we like for Allah (swt) to deal with us with His Mercy rather than justice, so should we be merciful with people’s slights against us and in covering their sins, as long as they are not harming others.

May we be of those who stand for justice for all, even if it were against our own selves.

It’s happened to many of us.  We come across a friend or relative—someone we would consider fairly religious—engaging in behavior that seems shocking or out of character.  You meet them on the street one day and see them dressed in a way you never would have imagined, when they were once proud to be physically identifiable as a Muslim.  They share pictures with you showing them in places they never should have been, or open signs of relationships that are far beyond the bounds of what is acceptable in our faith.  Once regular at the mosque, they seem to have broken away from the community entirely and want no part in it.  In your latest conversations, their opinions seemed so off point from their usual perspective, so distant from what Islam teaches, that it leaves you troubled and worried.

“What’s happened?” you may wonder. “They were so different just a short while ago.”  “They were so religious,” you may think, or, “They come from such a good upbringing.” “They know a lot about Islam, and have such good friends and teachers… How could they have gone down this road?”

—

In our dealings with other people, the ‘shocking’ or ‘out of character’ behavior we notice may actually be the final step in a journey that had been going on for some time.  For some, they may be signs of a connection with the Divine that has been neglected, a spirituality that has been starved, or a mind that has been overwhelmed with doubts and questions that has not found the illumination it so gravely needed.  At one time in the past, such a person may have been deeply motivated, inspired and felt strong in their faith and moved to practice it; but without proper nourishment, such feelings diminished, while others—those harmful and negative—dug strong roots.

This struggle—of remaining on the path of religious practice, and being constant and steady on it—is one that is often overlooked, and that has its own unique challenges and obstacles.

When someone is new to Islam, or newly practicing, we often recognize that they are spiritually and psychologically vulnerable.  At the start of this new journey, we acknowledge that they need support, inspiration and encouragement.  However, once they have taken the initial few steps towards practicing Islam, we often begin to neglect these needs.  There is an assumption that once someone is ‘on’ the path, that he or she has no need for support and spiritual nourishment as they once did before.

We see the same with those who are already practicing—those who come from religious families, who grew up praying at the mosque, spent some time studying and practicing Islam seriously, or who should, by other means, ostensibly ‘know better’.  On an individual as well as a community level, their spiritual and intellectual vulnerability is often ignored.

One of the most beautiful and oft-repeated prayers of the Prophet ﷺ (peace and blessings of God be upon him) was,

يَا مُقلّب القٌلوب ثبِّتْ قُلُوبَنا عَلَى دِينِك

O Turner of hearts, make our hearts firm on Your faith.

Even after the initial acceptance and opening of one’s heart to Islam, one’s heart remains very vulnerable and susceptible to influence, suggestion and doubts, and to being moved and swayed in so many different directions.  Hence the Prophet ﷺ would often pray for our hearts to remain firm, constant and steadfast on the religion of Islam.

In our recitation of Surat al-Fatiha, which we are asked to say repeatedly throughout the day in our prayers, we see a similar emphasis on steadfastness. We beseech Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He), every time we recite this blessed chapter from the Qur’an, to guide us to the straight path (Qur’an 1:6-7).   Though we are already Muslim, this is a supplication to remain on the right path, and for Allah’s continual and constant guidance.

In a prophetic tradition narrated in Imam Nawawi’s Forty Hadith, the Prophet ﷺ advised one of his companions, “Say ‘I believe in Allah’ and then remain steadfast.”  Many scholars have described this tradition as succinct, yet comprehensive, and have further stated that it is the second part that is truly the hardest part: remaining upright, steadfast and constant in one’s faith and good deeds (having istiqama) continuously throughout one’s life.

From these and many other texts and teachings of our faith, we see that the heart and mind of a believer is in constant need of illumination and inspiration, love and support, and edification and nourishment to remain on the path of goodness.  We must acknowledge this need in our own selves as well as in those around us.

Suggestions for a Practical Application 

For Oneself

□ Supplicate constantly that Allah (swt) make you firm and constant on faith and make the same prayer for others.  Do not think that because you pray regularly or have committed yourself to Islam in other ways that you do not need “soul food”, that will keep your heart and mind in a state of spiritual health and away from weaknesses and temptations.  An oft-repeated prayer of the Prophet ﷺ was to seek thabaat (steadiness) of heart, and to seek refuge in Allah from being tested in faith.

□ Maintain a daily diet of time in which you feel a connection with Allah (swt), even if for a short time.  This can include any act that is faith increasing, such as worship, remembrance, or seeking knowledge.  A beautiful book of supplications that has been translated into English is The Accepted Whispers, translated by Khalid Baig.

□ Be humble and lower yourself.  If you see someone you consider religious slip into a sin, this is a heavy moment for introspection and self-accounting.  Realize that others who have studied more, worshipped more intensely, or were more active than you have fallen into missteps and mistakes—and these things (knowledge and action) do not necessarily guarantee anything for you or your rank, nor make you immune from wrongdoing.

When You See Others Slip…

□ Realize that their action may have deep roots, and may be the manifestation of things that have taken time to develop in their mind and heart.

□ Deal with the person from a general position of love and concern, and not a position of judgment.  Be a doctor, seeking to help them overcome their illness and become well again, and not a judge seeking to punish.

□ Avoid passive-aggressive da`wah (outreach).  Address the person directly, in the right manner, setting, tone, etc., instead of ambiguous posts or public comments that can be misconstrued or cause resentment and hard feelings.  If you are not the right person to speak to them about the issue, then find the person who is, and then keep quiet.

□ Compassion should be extended towards the person who is struggling, but should not be confused with condoning actions that are impermissible.  Such matters need to be handled sensitively and with wisdom, but we should not turn the other way simply because we fear a person’s anger towards us.

□ Step far away from any gossip or discussion of such a person or their behavior, even if coated with ‘concern’.  The more attention and focus is given to the behavior, the more damage it will cause. Real, concerted efforts to help a person change are not done in large groups with a gossipy tone.

□ Realize that it may take a long time to give up the sin (just as it took time to get there).  Don’t be hasty and don’t expect change overnight.  Be hopeful and patient, and pray for them sincerely.

In Our Communities…

□ As an activist and organizer, help cultivate a supportive, encouraging, and spiritually nourishing environment in your MSA and community for people at different levels, including those who have already taken steps towards religious practice.  We should be working towards creating an environment in which people can grow and blossom into their full potential as people of faith, no matter where they are on this path.

□ Do not neglect the regular attendees.  If your Mosque Open House is warm and welcoming, and your MSA Welcome Dinner is cheerful and comfortable, so too should it be for those who attend regularly.  It should not be assumed that since such people have already shown a level of commitment to Islam, that they no longer need support, or to be inspired or encouraged.  It is all too often this group of people whose needs are neglected and who then fall into mistakes.

□ Include heart-softening and soul-inspiring elements in your community’s activities.  Temper your political and intellectual focus with focus on the heart and spiritual purification.

□ Take knowledge to the next level. Instead of repeating the same basic-level information year after year, find ways of providing a more substantial and well-rounded education for those desiring it, or facilitating a progression in knowledge and understanding.

□ Deal with intellectual issues:  Shaytan often plies off a small doubt that is fed by misinformation or lack of understanding.

□ Remember that if one’s faith is not increasing, it is decreasing. Major events and conferences are good, but do not forget the importance of having something consistently and regularly, to help keep everyone steadily growing and developing in their connection with Allah (swt).

May Allah bless us with steadfastness and constancy on faith, and make us people who keep moving forward in this path towards Him.  Ameen.

Originally posted December 2011

I was attending the Friday prayer at a certain mosque once. In the back corner, I noticed two teenage girls sitting side by side, whispering and giggling throughout most of the khutbah (sermon). It was slightly distracting, but nobody made a fuss about it—except one older woman who was eyeing them with anger the entire time. As soon as the prayer ended, she marched toward them and towered over their small bodies. “YOU CAN’T TALK DURING THE KHUTBAH!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. You could see the utter humiliation on these girls’ faces, as they lowered their heads and peered at all the spectators observing this embarrassing scene. After that woman’s verbal beating, I knew that immediate damage control was in order if these girls were to ever step foot in the mosque again.

It pains me to see how much aggressive behavior is unleashed on fellow sisters and brothers, all in the name of correcting wrongs, or enjoining good and forbidding evil. Islam is not a religion with a strict code of rules that needs to be imposed upon people. We forget that we are dealing with dignified human beings, who have delicate souls, hearts, emotions, and feelings. They are not inanimate objects on a factory belt, where they can be thrown around, cleansed and polished so the perfect ‘halal’ (appropriate) end product pops out. Each person has a unique life story, and every story has its struggles and difficulties; some people might be converts, or are just starting to learn about their religion. Others might not have had parents who taught them Islam, or parents who imposed religious practices upon them until they felt suffocated and constricted. There are also people who feel lost and are searching for guidance, and there are those who committed major sins and want to repent.

All these people have one thing in common: they want to feel love and acceptance. They don’t want to be humiliated or looked down upon. They want to be dealt with patiently, and they want a secure, nourishing environment to grow in. They want to see warm, inviting smiles that draw them closer to God and to the Muslim community. They want kind words of encouragement and support that inspire them to follow the Prophetic way in their worships, speech and character.  The Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) never sugar-coated the truth or stopped calling to the way of Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He). Yet, it was his soft, gentle approach that made his message so palatable and soul-satisfying. The Qur’an testifies: “So, by the mercy of Allah [O Muhammad], you were gentle with them—and had you been harsh or hard-hearted, they would have dispersed from around you. So, pardon them, and ask forgiveness for them and consult them about matters…” (Qur’an, 3:159). Look at the beautiful advice of the Prophet ﷺ: “Make matters easy, and do not make them difficult; and give glad tidings and do not turn people away,” [Bukhari]. He ﷺ also made gentleness a beautifying component of everything: “Gentleness is not in something except that it adorns it, and it is not stripped from something except that it ruins it,” [Muslim].

We give gifts to people because we care about them; it is one of the ways we show love, gratitude or appreciation. We also choose gifts that people enjoy or that would improve the quality of their lives. Can you imagine telling someone: “Hey, I have a gift for you,” and then throwing it in their face, leaving them bruised and not wanting anything to do with you or your gift? Think about our da`wah (outreach) efforts and advice as gifts. We want people to love Allah (swt) more and to develop an overwhelming desire in the heart to please Him so they can be successful in this life and the hereafter.  If we want our gifts to be received graciously—if we want people to pray on time, or to gain the full reward of the Friday prayer by listening quietly, or to cover more modestly, or to quit bad habits—we need to present these gifts more gracefully and adorn them with gentleness and a loving tone. If our goal is to please God, and not to flex our knowledge muscles or put people down to boost our egos, it is crucial that we pay as much, if not more, attention to how we say our words as to what we say.

There is another problem on the other side of the spectrum; some people have such a high regard for people’s feelings that they refrain from giving advice completely. They themselves might be afraid of being rejected, causing conflict, or not having adequate knowledge. They could also feel that they are not in a place to start pointing out other’s faults or mistakes because they themselves are sinful Muslims. Here, it is important to remember the Prophet’s ﷺ  words: “Whoever sees something wrong, he should change it with his hand. If he cannot, then [he should speak against it] with his tongue. If he cannot, then [he should dislike it] in his heart—and that is the weakest of faith” [Muslim]. The Qur’an also says that people are in a state of loss, except for those who “believe, and do righteous deeds, and advise one another to the truth, and advise one another to patience,” (Qur’an, 103:3).

Part of being one Ummah (community) is to care about our brothers’ and sisters’ relationship with our Creator, and to support them in their religious and spiritual growth. Also, the basics of the religion are known, so it does not require much knowledge to encourage good deeds. ((It should be noted that if there is a legitimate, legal difference of opinion among scholars about a certain matter, we cannot rebuke others for following an opinion different from our own.))  Our beloved Prophet ﷺ advised: “Convey on my behalf, even if (just) one verse,” [Bukhari]. There is no denying that actively calling to Allah’s way is difficult. People are generally insecure about their shortcomings, and they do not enjoy having a mirror put in front of them that highlights their blemishes. People might respond to our advice rudely or even harshly, making us feel belittled or dismissed at times. That is a common theme, though, with people who devote their lives to the calling. Look at the stories of the prophets and messengers, and how they endured their people’s criticisms and rejection. They were mocked, ridiculed and physically attacked, but they never quit. The value of conveying the message outweighed the physical or emotional pains that any of them experienced individually.

The key in advising people is to strike a balance. Encouraging God-consciousness and piety is praiseworthy, but it must be adorned with tact, kindness and humility. People need to feel that we care about them and are not just being judgmental or critical. For people to feel that positive, loving energy, we need to be sincerely aiming to please God and wanting the best for His servant-worshippers. It is important to remember that guidance ultimately comes from God. If we plant the seeds in people gently, we never know if and when God will cause these seeds to sprout and eventually bear fruit. The value remains, though, in planting the seeds irrespective of the results. If God utilizes us to bring people closer to His path, and we succeed in treating people with gentleness, mercy and compassion, our reward is secured with God, by His will.

Photo: Anshu

Reflections of a Black Convert: Part I – A House in the World | Part II | Part III

By Anthony Hardy

“Remember – no matter what you achieve in life,” my mother told me when I was an eight-year-old child, “you will always be nothin’ but a nigger to them.” She looked at me with the piercing eyes only a mother has, the ones that see past your face and penetrate your soul. “When I brought you into this world, you already had three strikes against you: you’re Black, you’re a male, and you’re poor. You ain’t gonna get the same kinda leeway these White folks get.”

It’s the same admonishment all Black parents in America give their children at some point, though maybe not as candidly as my mother did. Above all else, she was a pragmatist and a martinet. Being a poor, single, Black woman in the American South will fashion a pragmatist; the desire to protect your three children from the negative influences of the environment will harden even the softest of hands. When my mother spoke these immortal words to me, the Civil Rights Act of 1965 had been the law of the land for some thirty-nine years; the landmark Supreme Court case of Brown v. Board of Education had been so for forty-five years; and the Civil Rights Act of 1968 – deemed the Fair Housing Act – had been law for thirty-six. Adequate instruction was still a necessity for survival in an ostensibly “integrated” world, particularly for Black males.

My Sustainer saw it fit to fashion me Black and to place me in a poor, deeply rooted Black Catholic community located in a portion of the Bible Belt South. The cathedral serving the community was originally constructed in the late 1800s to serve the ecclesiastic needs of German, Italian and Irish immigrants. A group of nuns opened a school for Blacks and Creoles a few years after the completion of the cathedral. The descendants of emancipated slaves flocked to Roman Catholicism from Protestantism searching for education for their children, as back in those days, Catholics were known for their stellar parochial educational institution. My great grandfather, so my mother told me, was among those individuals who converted seeking something better for his progeny. I would like to think some of those Blacks even shared the pews with their fellow White Catholics.

If so, not for long: the ninety years of Jim Crow laws and the deceptive fallacy of “separate but equal” bifurcated the community. Many of the recent European immigrants who were maligned for being Catholic were able to purchase Whiteness at a fairly cheap price. And then there was the White Flight, the embodiment of discriminatory housing legislation, urban planning, government subsidies, social engineering, predatory economic exploitation, and even physical violence that gave genesis to the coveted suburbs and exurbs, the culmination of the illusionary confluence of separation and equality. These were Jim Crow at its finest—the holy grail of the ever-elusive American Dream, built off the backs of Blacks through savagery, thievery, and connivery.

Long before my mother came into the world in the early 1960s, only Blacks attended the church. Most of the Whites in the surrounding area had long disappeared. In their absence, the powers that be erected in the center of what would become the community of my birth a sewage and water treatment plant. The house of my grandmother, the house in which I was to be raised, was juxtaposed with the cesspool. The cathedral where I was to be baptized was a ten-minute walk down street from the plant; the elementary school where I was to be educated was a fifteen-minute walk from it. For decades, everyone in the vicinity woke up, worked, and laid down to the putrid stench of excrement and chemicals. Some people would even die with the fumes in their breast, said my grandmother.

The smell had not abated when I came into the picture. Sometimes, it was so bad I remember my mother and grandmother praying for God to command the winds to take the fumes. At times, those prayers were answered; other times, we just had to bear it. Allāh subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He), in His Infinite Wisdom, had coined for me a parable using my own childhood as to what I should expect from my existence as a Black man in America.

Said Moses to his people, “Seek help through Allah and be patient. Indeed, the earth belongs to Allah. He causes to inherit it whom He wills of His servants. And the [best] outcome is for the righteous,” (Qur’ān, 7:128).

“Ain’t much else you can do,” both my mother and grandmother would say, “but suffer it and go on.”

✻✻✻

Muslims often ask me what brought me to Islam. By way of preamble, I inform people of the obvious – that I’m a Black man – and the not so obvious – that I hail from the South. I then ask them to couple these facts with their own imagination as to why a man in my position from this part of America would accept the message of the unlettered, gentile Prophet ﷺ. Most of my interlocutors, at this point, have inklings as to some of the reasons—a sign, I hope, that people at the very least comprehend the connection between the social and historical realities and the theological consequences of those realities.

I then proceed to tell them this. In fifth grade, at a private Catholic school attended predominantly by White middle and upper class children, a fourth grader, a White kid, said, “All you Black people should still be slaves!” after I bested him in a game of basketball. Were it not for some childhood friends restraining me, I surely would have beaten him to Hell and back.

When I got home that evening, I started thinking about certain aspects of Christianity, at least as I understood them at the time. It possibly had something to do with the imagery often used in Catholic churches, chiefly pictures of a European Jesus and his equally European mother and disciples, and how inconsistent I thought it was for Blacks in America to be worshipping someone or something that so closely resembled our debasers. This kid and his parents believed that in accepting a certain theological interpretation of a historical event – the supposed crucifixion and resurrection of Christ – they were somehow absolved of their sins and thus would not have to answer for them. Yet I believed, even back then, people should be held accountable before God for their actions. I never told my mother what happened. She might have razed the school and maybe even the church.

Two years later, I found myself in an under-funded, dilapidated public middle school, an institution befitting of the low property taxes in its proximity, surrounded by teenagers who were more my peers, mostly poor Blacks and a few poor Whites. My mother withdrew me from the Catholic school because she could no longer afford the expensive tuition and because she was afraid I would “become White.” Back then I lacked the insight as to how one could “become White” and was unsure what that meant. I was sure, though, the strange white substance hanging exposed from the ceiling of the school was asbestos and that neighboring the school were a liquor store and a scrap metal yard. I was sure many of the teachers were not qualified for their positions, and those that were had to deal with sparse resources. I was sure many didn’t care at all: they were paid just to show up and leave.

The altercation with the fourth grader haunted me still, and because of it, I spent many nights wandering the streets of my neighborhood, agonizing over both social and theological issues as best I could. Although I believed in Him and although I was starting to challenge foundational Christian beliefs such as the Trinity and Vicarious Atonement, I also thought He was totally indifferent to our suffering or to the suffering of others. I never entertained the question of whether God existed; my concern was, rather, did God care? I wrestled with the wisdom of God putting my family in the position He did. I thought we denizens of ghettos and trailer parks were God’s bastard children, His “mistakes” in the way parents in our society often refer to their children, the ones He created by accident. Like our own derelict fathers, I figured He just left us to rot in the dirty armpits of America. I began to consider maybe there was something inherent to our nature that warranted our condition; or maybe we were guilty of some unknown transgression against Him that necessitated our status in society as just recompense. He seemed to prefer Whites, wealthy ones at that—they were made in His image after all. Why wouldn’t one want to “become White” in that case? Maybe, I reasoned, some element of their being was more favorable to the Almighty. Maybe He played favorites with His creation, the Whiter the better in His eyes. As such, I found myself wishing I looked more like them: wishing my skin color was just a little lighter, my hair was less coarse and kinky, my butt and legs were not as big. I was coming into tauhīd (belief in the oneness of God) in one sense but not in others.

I encountered my first Muslim a few months before I started college. She was a Black woman in her mid-fifties, a former member of the Nation of Islam in her youth who had embraced Sunni Islam later in life. She in many ways reminded of my mother, religious yet down-to-earth, profane yet wise. In fact, had my mother been Muslim, she would have resembled this woman. She elucidated the basic tenets of Islam, which I was eager to accept. I claim if one is predisposed to believing in God and prophets, the message of Islam will inevitably reverberate at a recognizable frequency; however, that being said, this woman, because of her background, possessed a manner of relaying the message that resonated with me on a personal level. Had someone else been placed in my path, I might not have been as receptive to the message. Allāhu `Alim (God is All-Knowing).

✻✻✻

Muslims often do not ask what happened after my conversion. In my experience, this appears to be less concerning to them, seeing as how the question seldom surfaces, which is a sad turn of affairs since that response is I think more beneficial and instructive.

Even after I declared shahadah (the declaration of faith in Islam), it took me many years of thinking, soul searching, reading the Qur’ān, considering the life of the Prophet (s), along with a hefty dose of Malcolm X, to reach conclusions about God that were more in line with Islam. I gave much thought to Allāh and how He relates to the suffering and downtrodden in societies, particularly Blacks in America: certain ideas about Blackness in the American context had to be challenged within my own being; ideas about Whiteness had to be jettisoned; old worldviews needed to be dismantled and new ones assembled. The psycho-spiritual furniture and psychological hardwiring in my mind and in my heart needed to be rearranged. The existential angst all humans experience borne of the paradox of infinite potential and mortal finitude needed to be directed towards a different qibla (direction Muslims face in prayer). It’s taken for granted that conversion is a process, not an event.

Not too much time elapsed following my conversion before I became acquainted with how the Muslim community actually functions in terms of race, color, class, and culture. Growing up in ghettos and trailer parks grants one amazing powers of perception. In addition to seeking God, I suppose I was also longing for a haven in the houses of Allāh against the monumental tribulation of being Black in America, a place of brief reprieve. I figured if anyone could understand us Blacks it would be the Muslims, who not only possessed a sizeable Black contingency, but who also by this point, post 9/11, were just as much the objects of unjust scrutiny as we were. I was, as it turned out, quickly disabused of this naïve notion: I went from Whites calling me “slave” to Arabs calling me ‘abd (literally, Arabic for “slave”, sometimes used in a derogatory manner to refer to Black individuals), I went from getting leery looks from Whites to getting them from South Asians, I went from Whites calling me “nigger” to Turks calling me zenci (Adopted from the Arabic “zanji”, meaning “one from the land of the Blacks”; more colloquially, the term means “nigger”), I went from hearing from Whites say, “You people can’t marry our children,” to hearing this from Africans, and I went from Whites saying, “You’re scary and uncivilized” to hearing this from non-Black Muslims in general. Not even the fanes of God were exempt, churches and mosques alike.

I remember, some time after my initial run-ins with the Muslim community, I visited my grandfather who was then eighty-two years old. He is from rustic regions of southern Alabama and had survived Jim Crow, portions of World War II, the Korean War, the Ku Klux Klan, and the Civil Rights Movement. On a whim, I asked my grandfather what he thought about race and if he thought the issue was ameliorating. Given his life experience, I figured his perspective would be valuable.

He gave me this response: “Nowadays, if someone wants to call you ‘nigger,’ they won’t do it your face. There ain’t no more ‘Whites Only’ drinking fountains and pools, ya see. There ain’t no more ‘Whites Only’ neighborhood. But what they do is they say make it so you can’t get a house or a job or they cheat you. They don’t say ‘You can’t live here!’ no mo’ but they make it hard to get a house! The Klan don’t do the lynchings. The police do it now. Ain’t no mo’ poll taxes but they still don’t want us voting! They call you ‘nigger’ but they hide it better. Don’t let them fool ‘bout what they say ‘bout progress. Things is really just the same as they always was.”

When I had this conservation with him, Trayvon Martin hadn’t been killed yet, nor had Jordan Davis, or Oscar Grant or Renisha McBride or John Crawford or Mike Brown. Richard Sherman, I imagine, was probably still in high school, so he wasn’t yet the brash “thug” he would become. And no one was asking for Barack Obama’s birth certificate or questioning his American citizenship.

At least not yet, anyway. I guess the old adage is true: the more things change, the more they remain the same. There is as much literal and figurative ‘nigger’ calling amongst the Muslims in America today as there is in American society at large. Like my great-grandfather before me, I sought something better. As my mother would say though, six in one hand, half a dozen in the other.

I’m looking for a house

In the world

Where the white shadows

Will not fall.

There is no such house,

Dark brothers,

No such house

At all.

—Langston Hughes, “House in the World”

Photos by Anwar Alomaisi

By Nivia Martinez        

The revival of Islam came about in the Arabian Peninsula, but today we can find a Muslim practicing Islam, reading the Qur’an and living a lifestyle of peace in every corner of the world. Those who were not raised Muslim sometimes think they have to make a choice whether or not to continue acknowledging their cultural heritage once they become a Muslim. The beauty of Islam is that it does not ask an individual to destroy his or her individuality. We can still follow the customs and traditions we were raised with, as long as they are in accordance with Islam.

Today we see Islam on every continent. Within the U.S. there are communities that have shattered the idea that Islam is exclusively for people from Africa, the Middle East or Asia. In reality, the Muslim community is inclusive of everyone. Its diversity is something to be valued and embraced as a means to unify. It is a reminder that though we came from a singular being, Adam (may peace be upon him), we have taken on a wide variety of political lines, customs and beliefs. Yet, thanks to God, we are united as one body and can pray side by side with an individual from a different background that we may never find in our own cultural enclave.

Still unbeknownst to many, there is a Latin Muslim community thriving within the US and growing day-by-day in Latin America. The phenomenon of the growing and diverse Latin Muslim community received exposure in the 50th Annual Hispanic Day Parade in NYC, which gathered 18 Latin American countries in a single event. This annual gathering is one of the most colorful scenes in NYC, as it features the folkloric culture of every Latin American country. The themes are played in music, dance and costumes. The Hispanic Parade committee that organizes the event allows each group that participates to demonstrate their unique character.

Our goal in participating in this parade was to demonstrate that within the mostly Christian Hispanic community, there exists a diverse Hispanic Muslim community from countries such as Puerto Rico, Mexico, Cuba, Costa Rica, Panama, Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Peru, Ecuador, Venezuela, Colombia and the Dominican Republic. We wanted to show that we are just as proud of our heritage and that our faith does not separate us from our roots. It in fact brings us closer to these roots as it is a community-oriented way of life, which praises fellowship among humanity. Hispanic Muslims still share the same passion and love for their family as the rest of the Latin community throughout the world. Islam does not restrict anyone from participating in such events and marching peacefully with our Christian friends that share our cultural heritage. What mattered most in our participation is that it was a public venue with thousands of spectators who have probably never witnessed Muslims gathered in one of the largest parades in NYC. Our participation demonstrated that we are not closed off from society, and that our beliefs do not separate us. It unifies us all.

Our theme of unity was displayed through a colorful float which consisted of an arch displaying the words “Un Creador, Una Familia, Una Planeta” (One Creator, One Family, One Planet), with a globe underneath. On the back panel of the float we displayed the message “Somos Musulmanes Hispanos” (We are Hispanic Muslims). The headscarves on the women, men donning long beards and thobes (traditional Arab garment for men), and the Latin American flags we held were the real symbols of who we are. Our float was designed to give a message of unity and to show Islam in a positive light.

In preparing for this event, many of us wondered how the crowd would react to our participation. As this is a day when thousands of people are gathered with a sense of pride and happiness to see their country being represented, I knew that the overall happy nature of the event would be reflected in the spectators’ view of us. As we passed them in our float, there were flags waving back at us, shouting the name of their country at us, and some glaring while taking a moment to read the message on our float. The NYPD officers that were guarding the event were mostly serious in their gestures. On the other hand, I noticed a few officers crack soft smiles and one that snapped a picture as he stood in front of a divider.

There was one particular spectator that showed his enthusiasm when he saw us passing by throwing his fist in the air followed by a kiss on his knuckles, in what I see as a symbol of solidarity with the struggle many Muslims are facing. Further on, a man waving his flag yelled, “Alhamdulillah,” a common Arabic phrase meaning “All praise be to God.” A man and a woman from Colombia who were there to march with a different group decided to jump in along with us instead and even asked a fellow participant for his Palestinian flag. These two proceeded to walk among us and wave the Palestine flag to the crowd. These situations were unexpected, but it made me feel as if though the struggle we are facing is not as deep as some of us may think.

What I learned from this event is the impact a positive message has on the way people view us. When we show the world a positive message, the only thing that we can get in return is even more love and positivity. This is extremely valuable in a time when hateful speech towards Islam is louder than the kind, rational voice of Islam. It helps to discourage listeners of hateful speech towards Muslims from accepting this rejection and hatred. On the contrary, justifying our beliefs through endless debates creates a notion that it is okay to use a person’s faith to understand why bad things happen. It creates an atmosphere in which it is okay to generalize and categorize people by the actions of a smaller group. It promotes bigotry and justifies hostility among people. What we do not see in the media are the people who support us, empathize with our struggle and want to see the Muslim community demonstrate even more acts of peace that refute what the media says. The media does not showcase individuals that want to march with us and show their solidarity by waving their fists in the air when they see us striving. These people do exist and will continue to stand with us as long as we continue to show our gratitude and desire for peace.

Photo: jpellgen

By Salman Khan

In his 1972 book, The Politics of Heroin, Alfred McCoy coined the phrase the “suppleness of the state.” He discussed the history of heroin discovery, production, and existence until today. Among the many discoveries he made was that the CIA actually had a heavy hand in the production and distribution of heroin throughout the world. Interestingly, he found that the CIA’s complicity in the global drug trafficking ring actually worked against many other US policies and organizations. For example, 10%-15% of lower ranking US Army men serving in Vietnam were heroin users as a result. This affected morale and actually harmed the US military. Additionally, organizations that sought to stop the spread of drug trafficking worked in direct contradiction to the CIA. This is what McCoy meant in his phrase the “suppleness of the state;” there were so many different parts of the state that in many instances they worked in contradiction of each other, instead of in benefit of the overall state.

In my experiences I have found that there exists a certain “suppleness of the state” in the Muslim community as well. In our organizations we all have noble objectives, yet due to unfortunate circumstances we compete with each other instead of collaborating. For example, you can find two or three masajid (mosques) in a close-knit area, each of which is in debt and in need of resources. Instead of pooling together and benefiting from one unified and financially stable masjid, the three masajid stay separated and broken. Not only is the community divided, but from a financial standpoint it just does not make sense. Regardless of the reasons, whether cultural, a result of bad history between the board members, or anything else, we should not work against the overall goals of our communities and ummah (global Muslim community).

Another example is with our Islamic schools and non-profit organizations. Many times there are similar organizations seeking the exact same goals, whether it is trying to build a community center, conduct da`wah (calling to Islam), or collect money for relief causes. This isn’t always a problem. If organizations are working towards similar goals, but are operationally different, or at least working together, then this is not an issue. There was ikhtilaaf (difference in opinion) among even the sahabah (companions of Muhammad ﷺ, peace be upon him), so we should not expect or call towards having one set way of doing things. The issue arises when organizations and individuals work against each other and harm each other.

As a community we have limited resources, so when multiple organizations working on similar projects, are all requesting the same resources (money, volunteers, etc.) and pulling them in ten different directions instead of a few—to do the exact same thing—we waste time, energy, and money. For example, some of our major Muslim non-profit organizations have administrative fees and marketing fees in the millions! Imagine how much money would be saved if they worked together. When we spread our resources thin, they are never enough. However, when we pool these resources together, we can accomplish a lot more. God knows best, but there seems to be an unnecessary “suppleness of the Muslim state” that works against the overarching goals of our community that needs to be addressed.

Photo: G Cacakian

By Leila Adam

Being left without an imam (religious leader) at your local mosque makes you realise things that never occurred to you before. Exposure to new and different styles of leadership helps you to learn what will be good for your community and what will cause them to suffer. It’s a strange experience if a city has never been without spiritual leadership in living memory.

In that situation, one can really take off long-worn blinkers and realise the possibilities and profound nature of an imam’s position in the community. An imam carries the community on his back. At the very least, he keeps them safe from wolves and packs of marauding dogs – the troublemakers who fill the void when leadership is absent.

Yet his potential is vastly more than this. Like the pastor of a church, the principal of a school or the CEO of a company, he sets the tone for the whole community. He has the ability to sway them, to lift them to great heights of inspiration or send them crashing against one another in deadly waves of animosity. If he is bored, they will be bored; if he is pumped, they will be pumped; if he is elitist, they will be elitist. Whatever is deep inside his nature will manifest in the people. That’s an awesome and frightening responsibility.

When you see a sublime example of a good imam, who stands right there – as opposed to being a distant figure online – and inspires you, opening your heart, it’s exciting. ‘Could this really be possible?’ you ask yourself. ‘Could communities really be so fortunate as to be uplifted and inspired every week at jumu`ah (Friday congregational prayers), and perhaps even more often than that?’ ‘Could a local imam also be a team leader who helps people get up and do great things in their community; feeding the poor, consoling the wretched-hearted and turning neighbours into friends?’ ‘Is it really possible to stop isolated struggles and feel real community togetherness and fellowship, becoming a cog within a beautiful set of machinery that lights up the whole environment?’ What a wondrous possibility.

A fortunate community will have an imam who teaches them to love themselves and others, to the extent that they each go away and begin working in their own realms of light and benefit. A community that loses out on this blessing will keep going through the motions of daily prayers and weekly jumu`ah without ever being properly awakened from their state of slumber. Like every comfortable sleeper, they will not even want to be awakened. A community with very negative leadership will be driven to stir up trouble and throw dogma at one other, until the mosque becomes a place in which everybody watches his or her back for fear of criticism. After a while, they will tire of the effort and stop coming altogether – and so the mosque stands empty.

So when an imam departs, what does the future hold for the community left in flux? A time of change is, at the very least, an opportunity to figure out what is desirable, and then get up in the depths of night and pray for the best result, through Allah’s Grace and Mercy subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He).