Originally published in September 2012

By Anonymous

I had begun to think of this room as the ‘Yellow room’. Subconsciously we give things names. It had become a second home to us in a move nobody wanted to make. We would arrive early in the morning and find a vacant spot by the window seats and sit down, contemplating why we were here, staring at the walls painted a cheerful, buttercup yellow, offset by the white wooden fittings; the empty bookshelf, the windowsills beneath the large sash windows, the seats—single, twos and threes.

Within a few moments we ventured down the corridor to my father’s room. We’d place our bags quietly beside his bed, arrange the chairs and settle ourselves to stay close to him for the rest of the day. Most of the time he was asleep, just like the other patients in this ward. But this was unlike any other ward in the hospital—it was a departure lounge; a place of surrender, the end of the battle with terminal illness. Each patient was quietly slipping away. Visitors were, for the most part, quiet too. What does one say when they witness the process of dying? Room after room was silent.

Every few hours I returned to the yellow room—the plaque on the door read ‘Family Room’—a cruel irony for families about to lose a member.  For the past three days, the silence was broken; there were raised voices, and the room was filled with conversations that sounded like questions, regrets, anger, and desperation. In the morning, around four members of a new family arrived, which grew to an average of ten by the afternoon. Sometimes they all spoke at once, then they’d fall silent for a few moments and begin their discussions again.

One young girl, probably in her late teens, sobbed aloud and spoke in bitter, short inflections. She cradled a baby girl in her arms, and set her gaze on her as her tears fell on the baby’s hair. Often, one of the older ladies, who sat with her husband, would take the baby from her and feed her a bottle or bob her up and down the yellow room. I didn’t recognise their language and guessed it was Greek, or from an Eastern European country, perhaps. What did it matter—anguish is a common language—everyone around could understand their pain. Over those three days, elderly relatives came in too; we smiled at each other, but there was no other communication.  The rest of the family never made any eye contact, we never spoke.

Then, on the fourth day, as I was about to enter the yellow room for a cup of tea, the lady who walked the baby approached me. She told me it was her sister who was here with a recurring brain tumour. It was this sister’s baby they were all looking after. Their youngest sister, the teenager, she continued to tell me, was finding it the hardest. Then she hesitated and said:

‘My sister’s about to go. We’re Muslim…We’re Turkish. If you don’t mind, can you stand by the door and say some prayers. I want someone to say some prayers…She’s going. Please.’

I was overwhelmed by what she told me and didn’t quite understand: ‘You mean prayers from the Qur’an—recite Qur’an?’

‘Yes, yes—we’re Muslim. Not now, come in 5 minutes—it’s that room,’ and she pointed to a door ajar. Inside I caught a glimpse of the patient’s husband, sitting on a chair beside the bed, wringing a small towel as he fought his tears.

Five minutes later I stood outside the door. I started to recite in the quietest whisper. I sensed the lady didn’t want other members of the family to see me there. In the intensity of the moment, and the fear of any of her family members coming out and getting upset, I wasn’t sure which surah (chapter) I began with, but I recited. Then more conscious of what I was doing, I began again, and recited Surah Fatihah (The Opening, Qur’an 1) slowly. And then Ayatul Kursi (Qur’an 2:255), the last four surahs of the Qur’an (Qur’an 111, 112, 113, 114), the last verses of Surah Baqarah (Qur’an 2:285-286), then the few du`a’s (supplications) I knew, then back to Surah Fatihah. For a moment doubts raced through my mind: was this the right thing to do, should I be standing here, what difference was it going to make? But I didn’t dwell on these questions. The enormity of the angel of death being in that room dawned on me in those minutes of being truly awake to what life is, to what death is,  and for what our souls yearn.

I don’t know how long I spent outside her door, maybe four minutes. But, it was a time outside of time. Something between living and dying, an experience that hasn’t faded in the five years that have gone by, but only intensified. And the memory has intensified because society and culture for the masses does everything to make us forget. Contrasts sharpen our perception.

We are beguiled into believing this world will never end; the luxuries, the ‘fun’ that prefixes every product and action, the food, fashion and music will make this world eternal. Layer after layer comes between the soul and its true nature, depleting it, cheating it and most tragically detaching it. But there’s something about death that cuts through all the clamour of the world; where our souls are touched and want that sacred connection.

‘So where are you going?’ (81:26) we are asked in the Qur’an repeatedly, following vivid images of the Last Day and the hereafter. And in the very next surah, Al Infitar—we are awoken again:

‘When the sky breaks apart

And when the stars fall, scattering,

And when the seas are erupted

And when the [contents of] graves are scattered,

A soul will then know what it has put forth and kept back.

O mankind, what has deceived you concerning your Lord, the Generous,

Who created you, proportioned you, and balanced you?

In whatever form He willed He has assembled you.

No! But you deny the Recompense.’  (82: 1-9)

Surah after surah we are reminded, questioned, guided, but we forget—as we fall back on the maxim ‘We’re only human.’ Allah knows we’re human, and that’s why we are reminded. Before it’s too late.

Those few minutes outside the door passed and I found myself sitting on the window seat in the yellow room. I looked out on to London’s stylish South Kensington streets; cafés sprawled on to the pavements serving customers with their designer dogs and pushchairs, and coiffured silver-haired ladies spoke with animated expressions. Inside, for the rest of the evening the family were silent. The men folk sat outside on the steps of the hospital building, smoking. The voices, the intonation, the pain had melted away, somewhere beyond our perception. The yellow room was silent once more.

Eyes shut, body still, mind calm, lights kill.

Deceleration of breath whilst proliferation of death

Rolling down the subconscious iceberg until

Gears and cogs and clock hands turn and I forget—

Stage one. You have arrived at the alpha.

Here what you hear is distorted in your ears

Mind is still well and alive but the site of an alfalfa

Is blind to the visible eye while it is near

Stage two. You have arrived at the theta.

Strange as it seems the fine line between reality and dreams

Are two in one, blended by the mind that runs data

Of past recollections into images in sections as it teems.

Stage three. You have arrived at the delta.

Processes have slowed, memories are stowed away to the subconscious bay

Whilst you enter a land stranded with sand without any shelter

And night is incumbent to veil the reasons of day.

Stage four. You have arrived at the gamma.

This is the part where everything changes.

Suddenly life emerges like a lightning striking the Panama

Canal of your ear and what you hope and fear ranges

Unlimitedly across the lands of imagination

Unknown and grown and stowed away in a strange place

Where whatever happens may precognize like inebriation

Or fantasize to realize what in wakefulness you vainly chase

Across the sky you fly in the sea you breathe

At the speed of sound on the ground and the world around

Fame and fortune and frolic, of fear your freed

Faeries and sprights and aeriform delights surround

Remnant memory in the form of reverie

Entering as thoughts manifest into reality’s reflection

Everyday nuances risen into the realm of the heavenly

Fettering like dots best described by science as brightened brain sections

Speaking of heavenly, let’s speak about that

Seeing that we’ve reached that fact as a matter of fact

And from twenty-seven to seventy thousand good deeds rack

Written with the pen of time on the fabric of fate in ink that is black

Of cosmic connectivity with such spiritual lucidity

From the black hole of the mind out of the soul synaptic ravine

Bridging the gap between the heavenly and the known reality

Despite what the heart desires to which it inclines

Here, a plane beyond this Earth is visualized

Fear is just a construct of illusiveness

Tears are irrelevant in a place you’ll never face ill-speech or lies

Peer into the telescope of the ethereal condusiveness

That which is divine is given as signs from above

Beyond wordly love higher than the flight of a dove

Somewhere near, somewhere close, somewhere you’ll never get enough

Because you’ll be fulfilled with ambrosian stuff

A home of messengers, martyrs, men alike

Who believed, perceived, and conceived the truth like the eye of the night

Never giving up hope or abandoning the fight

In dreams of an eternity that more than suffices their plight

Until you reach the high plane

Where the veil is lifted

Nothing is conceivable to the physical brain

And light upon light, upon you is gifted!!

Pleased with you, and you pleased with Him

This is the ultimate attainment!

Cups and chalices of silver filled to the brim

Of all your desires there is no containment!!!

Ethereal, surreal, this is a dream yet for real

You wish to reach such heights, you think and you feel

And the One you wish to impress knows what you conceal

So you do not digress, and before Him you kneel

Forty years you see what you once believed

In awe, in fear, in enlightenment, in exaltation

Compact into seconds, you have perceived

The recitation of an invocation for nations is now realization

Elated, pupils dilated and deeds are weighted

And if a feather is heavier it is stated

That you will reside and abide in a bode verily hated

By all like, so then why did you abate it?

Flames that purge, flames that scourge

A spark as large as a sallow fortress

Blame is dispersed, the blame is all yours

Why did you not stop when you had time to forfeit?

Screams, despair, dreams are now nightmares

Demons don’t care how painful it is there

Water is not shared, scalding it tears

Through the insides, so I declare, why aren’t you scared!?!?

In between there and a place you wish to go

You teeter between fear and hope of Him

What you deem fair is faced with the throes

Of reality’s truth and not to your judgment or whims

Memories of old, premonitions of new

Fantasies so bold, renditions of the true

Wishes so fantastic, goals you slew

Dreams bombastic, extolled by you

Pulse of the universe beats to the rhythm of nature

Convulse in synchronicity, slowing in tempo

Until the BPM of heart reverts to start place or

The mind sublimes to the rhyme it’s scribed in decrescendo

Shift down, shut down, lift up, hear sound

Gears slow, mind softens, time is rewound

Stage four, stage three, stage two, stage one rebound

Timelessness is bound yet again with the now you found

Rising up from an unconscious sea of still

Acceleration of breath clock hand turn and I forget

As cogs and gears calm the mind, the mind’s lights kill

Eyes open, body fills with life renascent from the iteration of death.

By Raiiq Ridwan

About three years ago I was listening to a lecture on the Magnificence of Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He). The lecturer came upon this verse:

“If We had sent down this Qur’an upon a mountain, you would have seen it humbled and coming apart from fear of Allah. And these examples We present to the people that perhaps they will give thought.” (Quran 59:21)

The scholar, Mirza Yawar Baig, then stopped for a moment, and said, “If Allah had revealed the Qur’an onto a mountain, it would have crumbled out of the awe of the words of Allah. Then what mountain has crept up into our hearts that our hearts do not even tremble at the remembrance of Allah?”

Allah (swt) Himself asks a similar question in Surah Hadeed:

“Is it not time that those who believe, that their hearts be submissive at the remembrance of Allah and what has been revealed of the truth? And let them not be like those who were given the Scripture before, and a long period passed over them, so their hearts hardened; and many of them are defiantly disobedient.” (Qur’an 57:16)

Allah (swt) is asking a question that should tug at the heart of every believer. Is it not time that the believer is moved by the words of Allah? Is it not time that when the believer comes across the mention of paradise, the believer cries to Allah seeking it? Is it not right that when the believer hears of the mention of the hellfire, the believer humbly seeks protection from it? How is it that a movie can bring believers to tears (which is fine), but the mention of the heart-breaking story of Yusuf `alayhi as-salaam (peace be upon him) keeps us stone hearted? Allah (swt) then gives the example of the people who were given a book themselves earlier and mentions what happened to them. A long time passed and their hearts hardened. And a hardened heart leads to a defiantly disobedient soul.

It has been a long time since the last Ramadan. Sadly, for most of us, it has meant that the quality of our good deeds has gone down. We make du`a’ (supplication), but there is no longer that fervour, that neediness that we displayed in front of Allah (swt). We were so conscious of sinning back then. Now, we let so many of our sins slide. Heart-breaking it may be, but the truth is that for many of us, over the past year our hearts have indeed gone hard. A mountain has crept up that is not humbled anymore at the remembrance of Allah (swt). But we are believers after all. While the ayah (verse) above is reprimanding us, it is still calling us believers. And in that very word lies the hope. Allah (swt) continues in the next ayah:

“Know that Allah gives life to the earth after its lifelessness. We have made clear to you the signs; perhaps you will understand.” (Qur’an 57:17)

The nature of the words of Allah (swt) is such that after every warning there is hope. After every reprimand there is advice. Allah doesn’t tell us about His anger or about our weaknesses such that we feel a serious bout of low self-esteem and wallow in the ocean of self-pity. Rather Allah gives warnings, mentions His punishment and scolds the believers to only remind them of their purpose and bring them back to Him. After Allah reprimanded us for the hardening of our hearts, He gives a very clear coded message. Allah (swt) is the One who gives life to the dead earth. Similarly, He is the One who can give life to our dead hearts.

Both the land and the heart are revived by what Allah (swt) sends from the sky. For the land, Allah sends rain; “And who sends down rain from the sky in measured amounts, and We revive thereby a dead land – thus will you be brought forth,” (Qur’an 43:11). For the hearts, Allah sent down the Qur’an; “O mankind, there has to come to you advice from your Lord and healing for what is in the chests and guidance and mercy for the believers,” (Qur’an 10:57).

The Qur’an is to our heart what the rain is to the land. Just like the land is revived by the rain, so are our hearts revived by the Qur’an. And what is the only thing that can actually break through a mountain? Water.

Water breaks through a mountain not because of its power, but because of its persistence. In front of us lies Ramadan, the month in which was revealed the Qur’an. There is no better time than now to start hammering at the mountain that has crept into our hearts with the water that has been sent.

The best time of the year to revive our dead heart is now. This Ramadan, let us irrigate our hearts with the Qur’an. Wherever we are with the book, let us improve our relationship with it. Perhaps we struggle to read the Qur’an. Make time to read the Qur’an more this Ramadan. Perhaps we read fluently and want to start reading a good translation of the Qur’an. Perhaps we might enroll in an Arabic course to understand the Qur’an better.

Let us heed the advice of the narration of our beloved Prophet ﷺ (peace be unto him):

“O people of the Qur’an, do not go take the Qur’an lightly. Recite it during all hours of the night and day. And spread it, beautify it and reflect upon it so that you may be successful.” (Narrated by al-Bayhaqi in Shu’ab al-Iman)

Nepal Quake: Coincidence or Reminder?

By Sara Altaf

The world is shaken,

By the shaking of Nepal

The destruction of buildings

The collapsing of homes

The loss of lives therein.

Is there a lesson?

Or

Was this incidence just a coincidence?

But how could it be a coincidence,

For we witness the world

As it remains discomposed by the tragedy.

We wonder

How did this happen?

An earthquake of such a magnitude!

Then another question creeps in our minds

An indispensable question.

“Why?”

“Why did it happen?”

Could there be a lesson for humanity?

For, surely, this is not the first time in history

That the land beneath us has trembled

That man-made infrastructure has crumbled

That our loved ones have suffered

Or even passed away.

Is any-One controlling

All that has occurred?

For we know the earth is just too majestic

To be moved by man.

Was this occurrence an awakening alert for mankind?

A reminder

That this life we live

This earth we stand on

Is not eternal.

There is a bigger reality.

The HereAfter.

The AfterLife.

It is a moment to reflect.

To snap out of heedlessness

To get back on track

And to prepare for the final quake,

That marks the beginning of the HereAfter.

We have arrived at our 45th article on the Names of Allah, and our 58th Name. Do you feel closer to Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He)? Do you feel more able to turn to Him? Do you feel like you can see the manifestations of Allah’s attributes in your day-to-day? This series is not meant merely as an academic study on the Names of Allah; its aim is to know enough about each Name to be able to connect to Him, to be able to effect change; and to understand the purpose behind certain things.

I hope that we can all return to those Names again and reflect on them. And please, feel free to share how you feel you connected.

Previously, we talked about Allah (swt) being the Giver of Life and the Life-Taker, how these Names are manifested, and what we can learn from them. Absolute certainty in those Names brings us to this Name of Allah: Al-Bā`ith: the Resurrector, the Raiser of the Dead.

Resurrection and Accountability

Allah (swt) says in the Qur’an:

“And [that they may know] that the Hour is coming – no doubt about it – and that Allah will resurrect [yab`ath] those in the graves.” (Qur’an, 22:7)

Ba`th (from the root ب-ع-ث) literally means to awaken, to raise up or to send. So it would be said:

بعث الناقة أثارها، بعث فلاناً من نومه أيقظه، البعث بعث الجنود إلى الغزو

“Ba`th of a camel means to excite it/wake it, Ba`th of someone from his sleep means to wake him up, and ba`th of the armies means to send them forward to battle.”

For people who question whether we can really be raised up again, Allah (swt) asks in the Qur’an:

“Do they not see that Allah, who created the heavens and earth and did not fail in their creation, is able to give life to the dead? Yes. Indeed, He is over all things competent.” (Qur’an, 46:33)

Is it more difficult to create something from nothing, or to bring something already in existence back to life?

So what does this mean for us?

Two things: purpose and accountability.

It is easy to forget that we will be raised again, and we may wander aimlessly not knowing what to do with our lives. But knowing that we will be raised up should infuse new meaning into the things that we do. Allah (swt) tells us in the Qur’an:

“Then did you think that We created you uselessly and that to Us you would not be returned?” (Qur’an, 23:115)

So we can ask ourselves, what am I going to present to Allah (swt)? What is the thing—or things—that we will say to Allah (swt), “My Lord, I tried to do good, I did this, for you”? Let us take a lesson from the mother of Maryam `alayha as-salaam (peace be upon her) when she said to Allah (swt):

“My Lord, indeed I have pledged to You what is in my womb, consecrated [for Your service], so accept this from me. Indeed, You are the Hearing, the Knowing.” (Qur’an, 3:35)

But what if we do not know what to give for Allah?

Sheikh Ratib an-Nabulsi says that another meaning of ba`th is that Allah sends to or inspires His servants to do good. So when you are feeling the urge to do something good, act upon it; do not delay it. In our short series on “Seeing the World in a Different Way”, we gave tips on how to attach a sincere intention and meaning into the things that we do.

The second related point of feeling the effect of Allah (swt) being al-Bā`ith is that of accountability. There is a certain mantra going around of “this is who I am, accept it”. This might be a good attitude sometimes, for example, if you want people to accept your interests or certain qualities that you have. This shouldn’t be the attitude that we have with regards to blameworthy qualities, such as a bad temper. As Muslims, we must constantly be evolving for the better. This is what our beloved Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him) taught his Companions. When they made a mistake, he taught them, and they pledged to change.

In the story in Surat al-Qalam, Allah (swt) tells us about the people of the garden who wanted to take all of the harvest for themselves and left nothing for the poor. So Allah (swt) caused the garden to burn down. The amazing thing is that they realized their mistake. They said:

‘They said, “Exalted is our Lord! Indeed, we were wrongdoers.”
Then they approached one another, blaming each other.
They said, “O woe to us; indeed we were transgressors. Perhaps our Lord will substitute for us [one] better than it. Indeed, we are toward our Lord desirous.”‘ (Qur’an, 68:28-32)

They realized their mistake, took responsibility and moved towards their Lord. They did not try to justify what they did; rather, they became better because they learned from their mistake, and never lost hope in Allah (swt).

Sending of a Messenger

Allah (swt) says in the Qur’an:

“And We certainly sent [ba`athnā] into every nation a messenger […]” (Qur’an, 16:36)

The beloved Prophet ﷺ was sent to us as a mercy and a teacher. And he was sent to all of us as the best example. Most importantly, he was sent from Allah (swt), the One who cares about us the most.

So when we speak of purpose, we need to look at the things that the Prophet ﷺ encouraged. He taught us that the seemingly small things matter, and the thing that matters most is your intention. He told us of the lofty station of the woman who used to clean the mosque, the high status of those who spent from their wealth in charity, the closeness to him of the person who supports an orphan, and the greatness of the deed of removing harmful things from people’s path. Being connected to the Prophet ﷺ and following his way no doubt connects us to al-Bā`ith.

How to Come to Life with this Name

1. Have purpose: Remember where you are going, and that indeed you are going somewhere. Make every moment count. Allah (swt) tells us in the Qur’an: “O you who have believed, fear Allah. And let every soul look to what it has put forth for tomorrow – and fear Allah. Indeed, Allah is Acquainted with what you do.” (Qur’an, 59:18)
2. Hold yourself to account: It is reported that Omar bin al-Khattab, the companion of the Prophet ﷺ, said: “Hold yourself to account before you are held to account, for that is better for your accounts. And weigh yourselves before you are weighed, and prepare yourselves for a day when ‘you will be exhibited [for judgement]; not hidden among you is anything concealed.'”
3. Study the life of the Prophet ﷺ: If you find that you are running low on inspiration, study the life of the Prophet ﷺ. His life and character provide the blueprint for our own lives.
4. Lift people up with knowledge: Al-Ghazāli counsels: “The truth of the resurrection refers to bringing the dead to life by creating them once more. Ignorance is the greatest death and knowledge the noblest life. God—may He be praised and exalted—mentioned knowledge and ignorance in His holy book, and called them life and death. Whoever lifts another out of ignorance to knowledge has already created him anew and revived him to a blessed life. And should a man have a way of conveying knowledge to people and calling them to the Most High that would be a kind of revivification, and such would be the level of prophets and the scholars who are their heirs.” (Al-Ghazāli, The Ninety-Nine Beautiful Names of God)

Sheikh Jamaal Diwan’s timely khutba commenting on the verse of the Qur’an, “And We test you with evil and with good as trial; and to Us you will be returned.”

How do we perceive the tests of this life?

Sermon starts at 32:05.

Photo: Colleen P

My wife says that this could be her last Ramadan.  I protest saying it could be, but it could also be mine, and it could be anyone else’s, and that no one is guaranteed anything, anyway.   This is half-hearted and she knows it.  We do indeed all know that we are going to die but my wife—age 32, and a year into her diagnosis of stage 4 kidney cancer with metastasis to multiple organs and bone—is keenly aware of this.

Ramadan is a time to reflect on death and to turn platitudes like “remember death” into spiritual cures.  For many—and ourselves included prior to the cancer diagnosis —death was not routinely on our minds.  We may think about it during Ramadan, then we forget, settling back into our comfortable routine.

But cancer disrupts routine.  There are appointments and scans and side-effects and drugs.  There are waiting rooms filled with other patients, seeing their frail bodies and strong souls and then whispering, “May Allah save us.”  Your own body, weakening and shrinking, testifies to its eventual demise; the cancer is literally waging a mutinous war.  We shudder when reading articles that talk about survival in months, not years.  A quickly evaporating sense of time races perspective forward, and forces you to focus on the finite period of time you have left.  We have learned some lessons along the way, although we ourselves have by no means fully implemented all of them.  We still struggle every day. Nonetheless, we hope that sharing some of these realizations may help others benefit without the trial.

We have learned that effective use of time starts with paying real, active attention—to be firmly attuned to your state and the blessings surrounding you.  Whether that is pondering the richness of the Qur’an, the power of the ocean waves, the beauty of your spouse, the soft caress of a summer breeze, the miracle of your mental and physical faculties… Doing this consistently takes effort.  This diagnosis has given us an opportunity to deeply reflect on the bounty of our Rabb (Lord). What is important quickly separates, like cream rising from milk.  Frivolity becomes lame and spending moments with loved ones and God becomes paramount. And diagnoses like these shows that life is a collection of moments, and our goal should be to make each of those moments an act of ibadah (worship), because that moment is itself a mercy of our Creator.  Recognition and attentiveness to your blessings are keys to happiness.  Even in this difficult time we realize that we are still so very blessed. Remember the refrain:

“Then which of your Lord’s blessings would you deny?” (Surah Rahman)

Know that however bad you think you have it, there are better people who are in worse conditions.  Be grateful: “So remember Me; I will remember you. And be grateful to Me and do not deny Me.” (Qur’an, 2:152)

Going though this make it abundantly clear that control is only an illusion.  The veil is lifted and you are reminded over and over again that the only one in control is the One. “Allah [alone] is sufficient for us, and He is the best Disposer of affairs [for us]” (Qur’an, 3:173). In the end no one can help you, not your degrees, connections, doctors, friends, or family, unless God allows them to.

And the main means of accessing Him is through du`a’ (supplication), genuine, heartfelt—and in our case, desperate—du`a’.  Remember:  “And when My servants ask you concerning Me, then surely I am very near; I answer the prayer of the supplicant when he calls on Me, so they should answer My call and believe in Me that they may walk in the right way,” (Qur’an, 2:186).  We make du`a’ and beg everyone we meet to make du`a’ for us as well.

We are also reminded that the outcomes that we pray for may not be the outcomes that He has planned. Remember:  “It may be that you hate something when it is good for you and it may be that you love something when it is bad for you. Allah knows and you know not,” (Qur’an, 2:216).  It is a humbling reminder, but we still must maintain hope.  We continue to pray for what we think is best, but know that God may have something better in store for us.

In the end, we are all terminal—a mitotic misadventure away.  But do not wait for a calamity to bring you to your knees to remind you of this and make the most of the precious, limited, beautiful time you have now.

May we humbly request that you remember us in your du`a’.

The author wishes to remain anonymous.  You can contact him at: CancerIslam@outlook.com

“The eyes surely tear,

and the heart is surely in pain,

but (with my tongue) I will only say that which is pleasing to Allah,

and we are indeed sad at being separated from you, O Ibrahim.”

—Prophet Muhammad ﷺ (peace be upon him), upon losing his child Ibrahim at 2 years old

Photo: Nathan Meijer

Al-Muhye, Al-Mumeet: The Life-Giver, the Life-Taker

These two names often come together, but I will be brief on al-Muhye, as I want to elaborate on it further in a separate article, and focus more on al-Mumeet here. These names are not mentioned in this exact form in the Qur’an, but their meaning is conveyed in numerous places. Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) says:
“He gives life and causes death (yuhyee wa yumeet), and to Him you will be returned,” [Qur’an, 10:56]

Al-Ghazali explains these two names, stating that “none is the creator of life and death but God—may He be praised and exalted, and so there is no life-giver or slayer but God—Great and Glorious.”

Allah gives life to things that are dead. We all witness the death of nature around us; a seed—a lifeless thing—is planted and given nourishment, and grows into a tall sturdy tree that gives us flowers and fruits. Then in autumn, the leaves fall, and the trees stand inanimate through the winter. But come spring, the flowers bloom again.  Indeed he is al-Muhye: He gives life. And perhaps the greatest manifestation is our own life: the growth of a human being, with a soul, from a sperm and an egg. Indeed, these are signs for people who reflect:

“He brings the living out of the dead and brings the dead out of the living and brings to life the earth after its lifelessness. And thus will you be brought out.” (Qur’an, 30:19)

The Life-Taker

This is a sensitive matter—while we all know death is coming, we are generally not conscious of it. Death is seen as negative; it signifies the end. Indeed the Prophet ﷺ advised us to “Think about the destroyer of pleasures,” [Tirmidhi], that is, death. If we haven’t been through it yet by losing someone around us, we surely will at some point.

To know that Allah (swt) is the Life-Taker is to be certain that there is death. And while most of us fear death whenever we are aware of it, it is usually because we do not know enough about it or because we have not prepared for it. There are two kinds of relationships that we have with death: our own, when we are faced with our mortality, and the loss of someone dear to us.

Every day is a step closer to death. Sheikh ‘Umar AbdelKafy once said, “You are not closer to death when you are sitting in an airplane than when you are at home,” meaning that it can come suddenly. There is truly a scary part to death in that our grave is representative of where we will be after we are judged. That in itself should wake us up. All of these slogans that we hear today: “YOLO”, “Just do it”, “Carpe Diem” and others are very relevant to us, but not in the way that they are intended. They should compel us to do the opposite of the demands of a hedonistic lifestyle: Death is around the corner, and we only have one chance at this life, so let us race towards good. Let us let go of grudges. When it comes to your relationship with Allah, when it comes to helping others and doing good, there should be no hesitation. “Just do it”. No more excuses. “YOLO”.

In this 3-minute video by Sheikh Salman al-Odah (in Arabic with decent English subtitles), he speaks very eloquently on our relationship with death:

He explains that death is simply a continuation of life, a transition from one place to another. We are believers in the next life, so death is not really the “end” in that final sense. Because of that, we can reconcile ourselves with death now; by planting a seed, by being there for our loved ones and making amends for wrongs, by becoming more humble, and by building, not destroying. We make peace with death by re-arranging our priorities while we are able to, and by laying the groundwork for being able to say the shahada before we die: la ilaaha illa Allah (there is no god but God).

He also talks about our second relationship with death: when those we love are taken away. When it comes to those we love, sometimes we feel angry at death. How dare “death” take our loved ones away from us? But the truth is, Allah is al-Mumeet: He is the One who takes away life. Sheikh Salman explains an encounter with a child who is asked, “How many people are in your family?” to which the child responds, “Seven. Five are inside, and two are under that tree.” When the man looks at the tree, he sees no one, but two graves. “You mean you are five,” he says, correcting the child. But the child insists, “We are seven.” This child was taught by his father that when he misses those who passed away, he can visit their graves and pray for them. And soon, we will all join them.

This may be reassuring, but it does not truly take away the pain of separation. Yet this pain is normal. The Prophet ﷺ talked about it when he lost his son, as did the Prophet Ya’coob `alayhi as-salaam (peace be upon him) when he lost Yusuf (as). And imagine when the Companions lost their Belovedﷺ. Imagine when the Prophet ﷺwent on hajj (pilgrimage), and gave his famous farewell sermon. After more than 20 years of struggle, lots of ups and downs, pain and joy, the Prophet ﷺ and his companions finally go on hajj in a free Mecca. After the farewell sermon, the Prophet ﷺpassionately asks, “Have I relayed the message?” The Companions respond in the affirmative; how could anyone say no? They were finally praying by the Ka`bah. Muslims were being dispatched to different areas in the Arab world, inviting others to Islam. The Prophet ﷺ looks up at the sky, saying, “O Allah, bear witness.” Not long after, the Prophet ﷺ becomes ill. In his final days, he cannot even lead prayers. He faints several times in a day. He says, “Truly death has its agonies,” [Bukhari]. When he passes away, and the Companions pray for the first time after the Prophet’s ﷺ death, it was said that the mosque shook from the crying.

The pain at the separation from the Prophet ﷺ never truly left the Companions. Bilal radi
 Allahu
 `anhu
 (may 
God
 be 
pleased
 with 
him) moved out of Medina, unable to be there without the Prophet ﷺ. This is natural. Perhaps nothing can replace someone’s presence with you, especially not the Prophet’s ﷺ. And this is why we hear of so many Companions asking to be near the Prophet ﷺ in Paradise. They were hurt by the parting, but they also had something to work towards.

Allah (swt) is so generous that when He takes away the life of someone, it is not the end of your relationship with them. As one of the living, your prayers for them still benefit them. If they gave continuous charity (sadaqa jariya), it goes on for eternity. If you love someone, truly love them, then be a cause of goodness for them in this life and the next. Do not let the time that you spend with them be a gossip session. Seek to truly benefit each other by making a conscious effort to do something, even if very small, for the sake of God. That is the meaning of love—it will carry on until after death.

So do not treat death like it is the end, but prepare for it like it is. Invest your life in such a way that you will see the fruits in the hereafter, because surely “every soul shall taste death,” (Qur’an, 29:57). And we are advised to “worship your Lord until there comes to you the certainty (death),” (Qur’an, 15:99). If any of us had any doubt that death is coming, Allah (swt), being al-Mumeet, surely removes any such doubt.

And when your time comes, know that your soul is being taken by Allah (swt), who both gives and takes away life. And to Him we shall return. In that there should be awe, a sense of comfort and a call to action.

Our Relationship with Al-Mumeet and Death

1-     Priorities

Heed the advice of Sheikh Salman al-Odah and prioritize things in your life. Work on your character, increase in good deeds, find your passion and figure out how to use it towards good. Let go of animosity because it only brings you down.

2-     Pray as if it were your last prayer

While the prayer series helped us to understand the internal element of the various prayer actions, one of the most effective ways to get khushoo` (devotion) in prayer is by praying as if it were your last, as the Prophet ﷺ advised. Hatim al-Asamm, one of the righteous, would imagine that the Angel of Death was behind him as he prayed.

3-     Live the way you wish to die with sincerity

The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said: “When Allah wills good for His slave, He sweetens him.” He was asked, “What is this sweetening?” He said, “Allah guides him to do righteous deeds before he dies, then He takes (his soul) whilst he is in that state.” [Ahmad]

The Prophet ﷺ also said, “Whoever gives charity and that is the last of his deeds will enter Paradise.” [Ahmad]

Sincerity is key here: the Prophet ﷺ narrates a story of a martyr, a scholar and a man who gave much to charity. Amazing as these deeds are, what these three sought from their deeds were attention and fame. And those people will not be in Paradise [narrated in Muslim]. May Allah protect us.

4-     Du`a’ (supplication)

Since He (swt) is the One who causes death, He is also the One who can give you a good death. The Prophet Yusuf (as) made a supplication: “Cause me to die a Muslim and join me with the righteous.” (Qur’an, 12:101) None of us knows what our state will be, so one of the most important things is to remember that only Allah (swt) can give us what we desire, and He is al-Mujeeb (the One who responds to prayers) so we should ask Him to only take our soul when we are in the best, most sincere state; to make our best deeds the final ones; and to accept from us the best of what we gave. The Prophet ﷺ said, “A person whose last words are la ilaha ila Allah [there is no god but God] will enter Paradise,” [Abu Dawud]. May Allah make us of them.

5-     Love

If those whom we love have passed away, then we can still benefit them and bring them good by praying for them. And if we are fortunate enough to still have our loved ones around us, then it is the perfect time to transform our relationship with them from one that is limited to this life to one that lasts for eternity. Allah (swt) tells us in the Qur’an:

“But those who feared their Lord will be driven to Paradise in groups until, when they reach it while its gates have been opened and its keepers say, “Peace be upon you; you have become pure; so enter it to abide eternally therein,” [they will enter].” (Qur’an, 39:73)

It can start with something simple: start a monthly gathering with a few friends and family and do something that brings you tranquility, make a messaging or email group and send daily hadith, or have a yearly charity project that will benefit you even after you pass away. More importantly, make sure your intention is sincere. Follow it with actions and du`a’, and let Allah (swt) elevate your relationship.

6-     Sadaqa Jariya: Ongoing charity

The Prophet ﷺ told us, “When a man dies, his good deeds come to an end except three: ongoing charity (sadaqa jariya), beneficial knowledge, and righteous offspring who will pray for him,” [Muslim].

Death does not have to be the end. We can leave behind things that bring benefit to and help people, and that also benefit us long after we are gone. The Prophet ﷺ gave us some examples of that:

“The good deeds that will reach a believer after his death are: knowledge which he learned and then spread; a righteous son whom he leaves behind; a copy of the Qur’an that he leaves as a legacy; a mosque that he built; a house that he built for wayfarers; a canal that he dug; or charity that he gave during his lifetime when he was in good health. These deeds will reach him after his death.” [Ibn Majah]

Moreover, we are told:

“There is none among Muslims who plants a tree or sows a seed, and then a bird, a person, or an animal eats from it, but it is regarded as a charitable gift from him.” [Bukhari]

It is important to remember that the opposite is true. Do not leave behind something that is a ‘bad legacy’; that harms others spiritually or materially and may harm you after you are gone.

7-     Pay your debts

The Day of Judgment is also the day on which debts are paid. It is important to make sure that we leave this world without any outstanding debts, whether it is money that you owe people or even an apology.

It just couldn’t be.

Rage, disbelief and anguish flooded through his veins.

‘He’s dead!’ he heard someone say.

No. That was impossible.

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY IT,” he raged, “IT’S A LIE! IF ANYONE DARES TO SAY HE DIED, I WILL CUT OFF HIS HEAD”

He was serious. Breathing heavily, he took his sword out of its sheath. He didn’t want to believe it. He refused to. He numbed whatever pain he felt in his throbbing chest.

“Umar!” He heard the stern yet gentle voice of his dear friend, Abu Bakr radi Allahu `anhu (may God be pleased with him) with the soft heart. Then he heard the recitation of the words that he himself had read numerous times, but it felt like he was hearing them for the first time.

“Muhammad is not but a messenger. [Other] messengers have passed on before him. So if he was to die or be killed, would you turn back on your heels [to unbelief]? And he who turns back on his heels will never harm Allah at all; but Allah will reward the grateful.” [Qur’an, 3:144]

In that moment, ‘Umar bin Al-Khattab – known for his strength and conviction – who only a moment ago was threatening to kill whoever dared to confirm that their beloved Prophet Muhammad ﷺ (peace be upon him) had died, fell to his knees and wept like a child.

—

Love with all of your heart, but depend only on Allah.

Umar was reminded – the Prophet ﷺ was sent as a mercy and a guide, but he was human. The Qur’an asks a remarkable question, will you turn away? Meaning, is your faith dependent on the Messenger, or on the One who sent the Messenger?

There are many manifestations of this. We rely on the gift instead of the Gift-Giver. Our faith is weakened when we lose our wealth or someone close. But this incident with ‘Umar (ra), and the question asked in the Qur’an, speaks to many conditions when our faith becomes reliant not on God, but on His creation. ((Of course, with ‘Umar (ra) it was momentary, and out of his love for the Prophet ﷺ. ‘Umar went on to be the second of the rightly guided caliphs. He spread justice as ruler and spread Islam. The important thing is the question that the ayah (verse) asks.))
We all have people we look up to. These people confirm and sometimes validate our faith. But what happens when the halaqa leader is leading a double life? Or even worse, when the Qur’an instructor molests a child? When the Imam is physically abusing his wife at home? When the pious community activist is caught soliciting a prostitute?

These things might anger us. They should. It should cause us to spring to action to protect those who are abused, to offer counseling, and to work on strategies so these things never happen again.

But do these things make us lose faith?

If they do, we need to change that. As Muslims, our primary relationship is with Allah.

People are not the Divine. Allah gifted us with free will. Some people make mistakes. Others are battling their own demons and still others are human demons. The Qur’an warns us of those people, so it should not come as a surprise. Remember Qarun who was of the people of Musa `alayhi salatu wa salaam (peace and blessings be upon him), yet he betrayed his own people for wealth and power. Bani Israel were mesmerized by what he was given. But because he transgressed, sold out, and abused his own people, he was destroyed. But he made the choice himself.

Some people are weak, some are sick. So many amazing people in history had their own transgressions because no human is perfect. Moreover, we know that many people who abuse were abused themselves. It doesn’t excuse it, but it also means that we as a community should deal with these things so that they do not happen again. The Prophet ﷺ taught us to search for cures for our illnesses, “because every disease has a cure” [Abu Dawud].

But our relationship with Allah should not be contingent on what people do or do not do. If the whole world were to betray their trust, that is their choice. That is what free will is for. Allah tells us, “so whoever wills – let him believe; and whoever wills – let him disbelieve.” It should not shake us permanently, because those people are not God.

So pray to Allah and pray for Him. Make yourself a better person by Him. Read about the seerah of the Prophet ﷺ. Love people, look up to them, be inspired by them – but depend only on Allah. Know that humans have flaws, so be forgiving. Make excuses for them. And some are criminals. Deal with them. Don’t be the masjid that harbors the unjust board member, or worse.

Remember, Allah does not change a people unless we change ourselves.

This isn’t to say that there won’t be tests. The Prophet ﷺ was pelted with stones at Taif. The Prophet’s ﷺ uncle passed away without accepting Islam. These things hurt. And we think to ourselves “but I did everything“. But that’s why this life isn’t simply about life. And even though it isn’t, Allah makes with every hardship at least two eases. So the Prophet ﷺ was attacked at Taif—but he got Madina. His uncle Abu Talib never accepted Islam, but his other uncles (Al-Abbas, Hamza) and cousins (Ali bin abi Talib, Jafar bin abi Talib) did.

Once, a cab driver in London asked me: “Where is God?” when a little girl is attacked and all sorts of horrible things are done to her by some sick man. “Where is God?” in that situation. And my answer was, “Where were you?” The bad in the world doesn’t make me lose faith in God because Allah tells us that the bad is because of what our own hands have wrought. And it’s true—why do some masajid protect pedophiles and perverts? How can someone with religious authority be so abusive to other people? Why do people rape and pillage? We are the ones that are not living according to the rules God set. Allah says in the Qur’an to protect ourselves from the fitna (trials and tribulations) that will not befall only the oppressive ((“And fear a trial [fitna] which will not strike those who have wronged among you exclusively, and know that Allah is severe in penalty.” [Qur’an, 8:25])) —the fitna will get us all because we allow it to continue. May Allah protect us!

Surat al-Kahf tells us about Musa’s (as) encounter with al-Khidr. Al-Khidr does things that baffle Musa (as). He damages the boat of people who were poor (who helped them no less!), he kills a child and then he restores a wall in a village where the people would not help them. From the outside, none of it makes sense. Musa (as) himself kept questioning and protesting the actions of al-Khidr. This is only natural on the part of Musa (as)—we must detest the evil around us. But al-Khidr shows Musa (as) that sometimes something seems bad but it actually averts a greater evil. Damaging the poor people’s boat for example, resulted in the oppressive king not seizing it since he would only confiscate boats that were in good condition.

So strive for justice. Strive for good. Be a source of light for people because God is Light and He gives His Light to whomever He wishes. The solution is to rely wholeheartedly on Allah. Learn about Allah. Beseech Him by His Names. We are human, and we have issues sometimes. But remember that there is so much beauty. Let that beauty remind you of God and the good He gives. There is some ugliness too. Let that move you to seek justice. At the very least detest the evil around you so that you do not become numb, but remember that it is higher to speak up about it and even higher to do something about it within the boundaries that are set.

Ask yourself what your faith is dependent upon. Then ask yourself, if there was a possibility that that were to be taken away, will you turn away?

May Allah make us firm.