seekeroftruth
14-04-2006, 12:14 PM
"What is it," the Ustadha asked, "that you wish to know?"
Abdullah swallowed, his throat tight. "Mother," he said, his voice hushed. "I wish to know of the Friends of Allah."
There was the slightest of gasps from behind the curtain. "An immense matter," she replied. There was a pause, then, "Do you know that mankind is split into three? Those of the Left Hand; their fate is clear. Those of the Right – and these, if Allah wills, is ourselves. The righteous who wish for reward and fear punishment. Perhaps you've met many."Blinking, Abdullah felt a weight lift from his chest, felt a tight knot unravel, leaving only sweet relief. This was certainly who the pious ones of the masjid where. He was glad that they were not so lost after all. "I have," he whispered."
And the last group - those Foremost, Nearest to Allah."Abdullah picked at the carpet. "Who are they?"
There was a smile in the Ustadha's voice when she replied. "They are the ones who know Allah, who worship Him for Him to know Him and to seek Him. They know the meaning of His words 'Allah created you and all you do' and they know the secret of His words 'It was not you who threw when you threw, but Allah who threw when you threw.'"
"What is it that they know?"
"They know that their actions belong not to them, that Allah creates their acts of ibadah for them, simply out of His concern for them." Another pause, then, "They know they are not in control, the veil of illusion lifting from them. They know that Allah, out of His pure Generosity, created their acts of ibadah only so that He would be worshipped and so He could become known." Another silence, as though she were reflecting. "Once this is realised in their hearts, once they melted in gratitude because of what Allah was doing for them, they could do nothing but fall in love with their Lord." Her voice seemed to break, but she quickly recovered. "Do you know how to escape Wrath, oh Abdullah?"
"No, mother."
"It's when you no longer see yourself in your good actions, that you only see, with the eye of your heart, Allah Himself creating your good actions even as you perform them. It is that you worship Him as if you see Him. Others, whose tawhid is on their lips and not in their hearts, they are the ones who suffer Wrath – in reality, Rahma – because they need to be purified before they return to Allah." There was a shift in her voice. "Oh Shaykh! Read from the page in front of you."
The Shaykh cleared his throat. The darkness was thick now, and his body a mere outline. "True freedom," he read, "is when you are a slave to no created thing – especially your own nafs."
"And again!"
"There is no islam until both your inward and your outward have submitted."A sob escaped from behind the curtain. "We should never be content to just be those of the Right, and we certainly must not be content for us to be of the Left – we should aim to be of the Foremost, then let the Mercy of Allah speed us to our destiny."The call to prayer pierced the air like a speeding arrow, faint and strong at the same time. "Mother," Abdullah asked quickly. "How do I find a Friend?"
"Oh, Shaykh!" the Ustadha replied, her voice so light that Abdullah thought it may even float. "Read again!"
"All you have to do to find the one you seek," the Shaykh read, " is but ask."
From The Traveller's Souk (http://the-travellers-souk.blogspot.com/)
Abdullah swallowed, his throat tight. "Mother," he said, his voice hushed. "I wish to know of the Friends of Allah."
There was the slightest of gasps from behind the curtain. "An immense matter," she replied. There was a pause, then, "Do you know that mankind is split into three? Those of the Left Hand; their fate is clear. Those of the Right – and these, if Allah wills, is ourselves. The righteous who wish for reward and fear punishment. Perhaps you've met many."Blinking, Abdullah felt a weight lift from his chest, felt a tight knot unravel, leaving only sweet relief. This was certainly who the pious ones of the masjid where. He was glad that they were not so lost after all. "I have," he whispered."
And the last group - those Foremost, Nearest to Allah."Abdullah picked at the carpet. "Who are they?"
There was a smile in the Ustadha's voice when she replied. "They are the ones who know Allah, who worship Him for Him to know Him and to seek Him. They know the meaning of His words 'Allah created you and all you do' and they know the secret of His words 'It was not you who threw when you threw, but Allah who threw when you threw.'"
"What is it that they know?"
"They know that their actions belong not to them, that Allah creates their acts of ibadah for them, simply out of His concern for them." Another pause, then, "They know they are not in control, the veil of illusion lifting from them. They know that Allah, out of His pure Generosity, created their acts of ibadah only so that He would be worshipped and so He could become known." Another silence, as though she were reflecting. "Once this is realised in their hearts, once they melted in gratitude because of what Allah was doing for them, they could do nothing but fall in love with their Lord." Her voice seemed to break, but she quickly recovered. "Do you know how to escape Wrath, oh Abdullah?"
"No, mother."
"It's when you no longer see yourself in your good actions, that you only see, with the eye of your heart, Allah Himself creating your good actions even as you perform them. It is that you worship Him as if you see Him. Others, whose tawhid is on their lips and not in their hearts, they are the ones who suffer Wrath – in reality, Rahma – because they need to be purified before they return to Allah." There was a shift in her voice. "Oh Shaykh! Read from the page in front of you."
The Shaykh cleared his throat. The darkness was thick now, and his body a mere outline. "True freedom," he read, "is when you are a slave to no created thing – especially your own nafs."
"And again!"
"There is no islam until both your inward and your outward have submitted."A sob escaped from behind the curtain. "We should never be content to just be those of the Right, and we certainly must not be content for us to be of the Left – we should aim to be of the Foremost, then let the Mercy of Allah speed us to our destiny."The call to prayer pierced the air like a speeding arrow, faint and strong at the same time. "Mother," Abdullah asked quickly. "How do I find a Friend?"
"Oh, Shaykh!" the Ustadha replied, her voice so light that Abdullah thought it may even float. "Read again!"
"All you have to do to find the one you seek," the Shaykh read, " is but ask."
From The Traveller's Souk (http://the-travellers-souk.blogspot.com/)