Assalaamu alaykum

I have not posted in a while, and I am not intending to start up again any time soon. I will keep this blog up for now, mostly for my own benefit. In the meantime, may God guide you in His ways, ameen.

I think about the Sahaba a lot. I wonder what they were like, and how they lived. I try to make sense out of why they killed each other, and if that means anything for me today. In short, I don’t turn away from the complexity of trying to understand the lives they lived. I believe in the miraculous stories, as well as the perseverance and sacrifice which changed the history of the world. But I don’t pretend that it was all some perfect little world where nobody ever did something really wrong, or misunderstood something of grave importance.

On occasion, I get a glimpse of them, in my imagination. Tonight, as I was reading Surah al-Inshiqaq in prayer, I remembered something I had read recently:

“Bukhari recorded from Abu Rafi’ that he prayed the Isha prayer behind Abu Hurairah, and the latter recited “idha al-sama’ inshaqqat (when the sky will rip apart)” and at the relevant verse, he prostrated. So, Sayyidna Abu Rafi’ asked him what type of prostration it was. Sayyidna Abu Hurairah replied: ‘I prostrated at this verse behind Abul Qasim [Rasul Allah] in a salah, and I will never cease prostrating during its recitation until I meet him on the Plain of Gathering.’” [taken from Ma'ariful Qur'an of Mufti Muhammad Shafi', English translation, vol. 8, p. 748]

Now, I don’t know much about Abu Hurairah, except the usual basic biographical sketch. I know that he is a controversial figure, disliked by the Shi’a as well as liberals, who blame him for transmitting false materials from the Prophet (may the peace and blessings of God be upon him). Yet, he is loved by the Sunnis, famous as the Sahabi who transmitted the most ahadith of all.

I don’t claim to know much. Years of study have made me realize that there is far more that I don’t know than I actually know. So I don’t claim to be able to comment on his reliableness as a transmitter. But tonight, I realized something important. Abu Hurairah was there. He stood next to the Prophet (may the peace and blessings of God be upon him), saw his blessed face, and heard his voice, the one which God choose to first speak His words into the ears of human beings. Abu Hurairah was there.

If Abu Hurairah still walked this earth, I would sell all my CDs and books, cancel all my plans to study, stop spending time with scholars and pious people and good everyday Muslims, and I would go to him. Just to be in the presence of someone who was in the presence of the Messenger of Allah (may the peace and blessings of God be upon him)…it is too amazing, too beautiful, too overwhelming to even fathom.

I am sure Abu Hurairah had his faults. After all, he wasn’t a Prophet or a Messenger. But if he were here, today, there is no one on the planet whose suhba I would crave more, and whose voice I would rather hear.

And that is why I say, “radi Allahu anhu (may God be well pleased with him).”

ameen.

I visited my ancestors today. John and Mary Coolidge came to the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1630. They passed away in 1691. It is because of them that I was born in this land. Here lies the body of my honored grandfather.

One of their descendants, Joseph Coolidge, was working in the field one day when he heard a fight had broke out with some Redcoats in Lexington. He dropped his plough, shouldered his musket, and never came back. It was the year 1775, and it is because of him that I have tasted freedom. Here lies the body of my honored grandfather.

There were other Coolidges there, although I don’t know which of them I am related to directly. One of the graves was of a Kezia Coolidge, wife of Nathan, who died in 1804. Her grave had a beautiful poem on it, which articulated much of what I felt while I was there.

No human skill can warm that clay

Which the cold blast of death has froze

But God shall raise the lifeless form

His animating power disclose

I spoke with my ancestors. I don’t know if they heard me, but I thanked them for the lives they lived. I wished them peace and mercy, and told them that I hope God will bring us together in the world to come. As I left, I hoped and prayed that I might live a life that is worthy of the legacy that they left behind.

Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by Thy Name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespassed against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever, amen.

While driving in my car last night, it hit me. After so many years of struggling and striving, there is much to be thankful for, and may God be praised for it. And yet, I can see so clearly all the failures, all the wounds, all the mistakes, all the trauma. If you looked at my body, you would not notice any major signs of trauma (except, perhaps, the signs of poor eating habits). But if you could look at my heart, you would see the scars of battle.

I was thrown into this world, and I was not always given milk to drink; oftentimes, I chose the wine. While sometimes my feet found peace in the cool earth, more often they were sore from days on concrete. Almost every day, the words of a song run through my head – “this world stains us with demands.” After 30 years, how many stains have become fixed, how many bandages have yet to be removed.

I am a triage patient – even though the deen got me young (19 going on 20), many of the wounds have still not healed, and I often feel exhausted just trying to keep new wounds from opening up. But thank God for the medicine. Thank God no one came along and just gave me morphine to dull the pain, as I slowly slipped away towards death in ignorant bliss.

This broken and battered and beaten and bruised and  briar-ridden thorn patch of my heart (another song lyric) is me. I cannot run away from it. I can forget about it for awhile, which is a mercy, but it always comes back, reminding me of who I truly am inside.

While I still have a little fight left in me, do I stand up before the crushing desolation of forgetfulness encapsulated in the steel and glass monstrosities that tower over me? Do I defiantly call the bluff of those who say that the heart can never be truly sound, or do I listen to the words of my Lord who says, “except the one who brings to God a sound heart.” (Qur’an, 22.89). Why would the One who knows me better than myself call me to something that I cannot achieve?

No. I refuse to go down without a fight. I refuse to believe that my heart cannot thrive and flourish and overcome its past trauma. I accept that many times I have wronged myself, but I also do not remove blame from a world built upon so much greed, selfishness, backstabbing, alienation, and destruction. I seek refuge in my Lord from a world which wants me to accept who I have become, who I am. Rather, I ask this day, as always, to be guided to the path of those upon whom God has shown favor.

As I stand and begin to walk, I pick my way through the shattered remains of humanity scattered across Dar Umum al-Balwa (The Abode of Mass Affliction). Dear God, illuminate my path, make my steps firm and true, let me be of help to others along the way, protect me from my enemies, heal me as I walk, and carry me safely home.

Perhaps a few years after I became Muslim, I wondered to myself, “How would a Muslim interpret an important historical event that did not really involve Muslims? How, for example, would Muslims interpret the Civil War.” That thought, as with many others, eventually found an answer, through the grace of God. Abraham Lincoln’s second inaugural address is, in my humble opinion, about as perfect of a theological reflection on the American Civil War as could be articulated. For all Muslims interested in trying to reflect on the theology of history, I recommend reading, “Lincoln’s Greatest Speech: The Second Inaugural” by Ronald C. White, Jr..

This song was originally written in Arabic, and translated into English by our teacher, Shaykh Abdul Hakim Murad (may Allah preserve him and continue to benefit us by him, ameen)

Everybody has been talking about the financial crisis lately. Many Muslims have expressed the idea that “Islamic economics” might be an alternative to the alternative system of global finance, and that it wouldn’t be vulnerable to the same sort of problems that we are seeing everyday in the news. Whatever the case may be, in order to begin to answer these sorts of complex questions, we have to have an understanding of the recent history of Islamic economic thought. I wrote something about this recently, and I would like to share it with you:

From my research on the subject, there are basically two approaches to the issue of “Islamic economics.” (I put this in quotes not in order to question the islamic-ness of this discourse, but rather to put into question that things not explicitly called “islamic” are in fact un-islamic.. .more on this later insha’Allah) . The first approach presupposes an Islamist state that can implement Islamic policies across the board. The second presupposes the currently exisiting state structures of Muslim countries, and their corresponding legal regimes, which means that reform has to come in piecemeal fashion primarily from the private sector (and as such, has to play by the rules of the game in the global capitalist order).
The former approach (top-down statist reform) has not really been tried, because of the lack of successful Islamist movements. Iran is an exception, but one state, or even a few of them, cannot fundamentally change the game. The only viable way this could happen would be if Islamist parties took control of enough countries to create an Islamic economic bloc wherein trade between them would be facilitated in order to offset each state’s comparative disadvantage.

The latter approach (piecemeal efforts from the private sector, in recognition of the ubiquitous institutions and networks of global capitalism) has been the dominant discourse of Islamic finance. It has adopted a pragmatic approach wherein workable institutions and products have been created and thrived (and often failed as well) under the supervision of ‘ulama.

Now, what needs to be recognized is that both of these approaches assume the nation-state structure, a novelty in the Muslim world only slowly approaching it’s 100 year anniversary. When we talk about the economic practices of the Muslims we admire (whether it be the Prophet (may the peace and blessings of God be upon him), Imam Ja’far al-Sadiq (may Allah have mercy on him), Khalifa ‘Umar b. ‘Abdul-Aziz, Imam al-Ghazal, Salahuddin al-Ayyubi, etc.) then we must recognize that such a pre-industrial economic order governed by political arrangements and legal regimes significantly different from those that we so often PRESUPPPOSE in our conversations, that such an arrangement is gone and very unlikely to return. The industrial and post-industrial economies governed by nation states and international institutions that are fundamentally linked to our experience of the world and understanding of it are already a far remove from the conditions in which a shari’a discourse was articulated and sometimes applied in the economic sphere.

As such, economic thought that is inspired by Islamic revealed sources and the tradition that stems therefrom, and more importantly economic PRACTICE that is explicitly connected to such shari’a discourses, is the exception rather than the norm. But that does not necessarily mean that current status quo thought and practice on economic matters is inherently “un-islamic. ” Rather, the only way of knowing the shar’i status of currently existing practices is through a review of such practices. And that is precisely what the latter form of Islamic economics is doing (the piecemeal approach).

The former approach (the Islamist top-down approach) is problematic from a whole host of reasons. I’ll just name a few. The modern nation-state is already WAY too intrusive (a big change from pre-modern Muslim political structures) and a wholescale top-down approach would only increase the hegemony of Muslim governments over their populations. Secondly, the only significant difference on a fundamental level between economic systems is the stance they take on private property, with capitalism and communism on the two ends of the spectrum. Islamic law safeguards private property, and so is closer to the capitalism end of the spectrum. As such, the only real difference is a matter of legal regimes, and the resulting differences that come therefrom. Given that the fostering of a discourse on real economic practices in light of shar’ia is already underway, and without the social unrest of a revolution and statist hegemony, what exactly would an Islamist statist approach bring?

In the end, there are only a few real players: intellectuals, firms, and governments. The intellectuals have been doing their work for decades now. Originally, you found the Islamist element a stronger trend (think early Monzer Kahf for example), but now the piecemeal, contract oriented approach has gained favor (think current Mufti Taqi). Firms, obviously, could only use the intellectual work of the latter approach to create viable products, and that is what they have done. Governments of current Muslim nation-states, also, have little wiggle room. To function as a nation-state, you need a central bank and fiat money. How the heck would you get around those two lynchpins of the system, assuming you think they are not in tune with shar’ia??!!! Thus, the only logical alternative would be revolution, based on the theories of those who have never tried them in practice, and which have only tangential similarity to the economies of the Muslim world before European hegemony utterly transformed them. From any logical standpoint, and more importantly from a religious one, that would be a highly risky endeavor that would contravene a number areas of maqasid al-shari’a (eg. the preservation of property) and qawa’id fiqhiyya (eg. custom rules).

As such, I don’t see any real alternative to what is currently being done. The pace at which it is being done, and the direction in which it might go, will most likely be effected by the current crisis, but I don’t think we will see anything close to the aforementioned creation of an Islamic economic bloc ruled by Islamist parties trying to implement Islamic economics from a top-down approach. 

Lastly, I’ll end with this. The more one learns about law and economics, whether Islamic, American, or whatever, the more one realizes how much one doesn’t know. There are very few, if any of us, on this list, who would be able to evaluate contracts as to their shar’ia worthiness, or analyze state economic policies in their fullness and comment on how they may or may not align with the letter or spirit of the shari’a. As such, we realize this is primarily a problem of knowledge. And when we look at contemporary Islamic economics, we realize it is the only area where scholars of shari’a can hope to really be involved in society other than minbar (or satellite TV) moralizing, or marital counseling. If Islam is truly to be an integral part of society, then it will only do so through the creation of people of specialized knowledge (that is how the division of labor works in the post-industrial economy). As such, I am glad to see people like Mahmoud El-Gamal and Mufti Taqi and Shaykh Nizam and others doing their thing (however much they might disagree), because it is the one area where shari’a discourse is at least living and breathing on a macro-level. As this field grows, it will require more and more people learned in the letter and spirit of the shari’a, whether they be lawyers, accountants, institutional investors, economists, CFOs, or whatever. And perhaps, one day, this knowledge may even be more relevant for judges handling commercial disputes, central bankers, and prime ministers.

For these things to happen, there needs to be a shift in the educational practices of Muslims, who see shari’a scholarship as a worthy profession and necessary to being a memeber of the educated power-brokers in society. This seems to be already happening, with the creation of degree programs in Islamic Finance, but it will depend on whether or not these programs attract more talented students than regular shari’a student, and graduate professionals who are competent to deal with the complexity of these questions from a legal (right brain) approach and a financial (left brain) approach.

For those who want to begin the lifelong journey into these waters of complexity, I suggest the following books:

Any standard college economics 101, Macroeconomics, Finance, or Accounting textbook

“The Naked Economist” by Charles Wheelan [accessible intro to econ]

“The Age of Uncertainty” by John Kenneth Galbraith [interesting history of different forms of economic organization]

“Manias, Panics, and Crashes” by Charles Kinderberger [a history of financial crises]

“An Introduction to Islamic Finance” by Mufti Taqi Usmani [lays out the standard understanding of contemporary Islamic finance from the piecemeal private sector approach]

“The Fiqh of Zakat” by Yusuf al-Qaradawi [massive tome on the application of zakah in an modern nation-state system]

“Islamic Finance: Law Economics and Practice” by Mahmoud El-Gamal [intelligent critique of dominant discourse in Islamic finance]

May Allah guides us to sincere hearts devoted to Him and trusting of His Lordship over everything, enlightened minds that understand the way of living the shari’a in our time and place, and vigorous bodies which work and work despite hardship. Our Lord, give us good in this world, good in the next, and save us from the punishment of the Fire, ameen.

The Qur’an says, “So remind, for the reminder benefits.” (87.9)

It’s after Ramadan, and I am listening to some music. Decidedly, not the most spiritual exercise. I admit it. But Allah’s signs are everywhere.

I am listening to one of my favorite bands, As I Lay Dying. They are a metal band, but they are also Christians.

And for the first time, I read the lyrics to two particular songs, and I am struck by the insights. Here is one particular passage, from a song called “The Sound of Truth.”

“Say what you really mean
When your ambition calls you
For what use is there in praying
If you will only hear what you want to hear?”

And here is another passage, from a song called “This is Who We Are.”

“Now this is who we are
I’ll never know the answers
And I’ll always wonder why
But You have let me start again
I’d rather be called weak
Than die thinking I was strong”

Allah, You have saved me so many times. I admit my manifest wrongdoings and weaknesses and confusions. I am Your slave, forever in need of Your mercy. Save me again and again, from the greed of my own soul, from the whispers of Shaytan, from the delusions of this world. If I would ever appear strong to the world, it would only be because of Your strength. You alone have given me the ability to write these words, feel these thoughts, and so my recognition of my need of You only increases me in utter dependence. Save me again and again, until I leave this world, and then save me from the torment of the grave and the punishment of the Fire. You are my Saviour, and have always been, and always will be.

“They consider that they have done you a favor by becoming Muslim. Say, ‘your Islam is not a favor to me.’ Rather, God has done you a favor in that He has guided you to faith, if you would only be sincere.” (49.17)

someone else wrote this…beautiful, masha’Allah

“praying for His and your forgiveness for:

every lie told
every promise broken
every trust misplaced
every time I put on airs
every time I did not listen
every phoney laugh
every greedy glance
every minute waisted
every truth hidden
every secret revealed 
every hard earned dollar misused
every penny of debt unpaid
every request forgotten
every bit of worry
every bit of regret
every bit of annoyance
every ounce of frustration 
every bit of crazy-making distraction
every time I took what was not mine
every thank you never spoken
every wordy reply when a simple yes or no would have sufficed
every disappointment
every time I did not live up to my abilities
every time I let you take the blame, pay the bill, or take the hit
every time I left you on your own
every glare
every grimace
every boast
every grumpy snarl
every whinny whimper
every vulgar growl
every time I spoke without knowledge
everything I took for granted
every time I said yes when the right answer was no
every time I said no when I knew you knew it was a lie
every shrill note
every rude remark
every failure to give salaams
every put-down of your style your music your country you race your religion your thoughts on politics or literature or dance or movies or choice of silverware
every time I was too slow
every time I blamed you for moving too fast
every time I knew I was wrong but dang it I had to keep on talking anyway because we all know that I know it all
every repeat offense
every phoney repentance
every offense unconfessed
every wound I cannot heal.”