I woke up just as I went to bed the night before: longing for my Lord, unsure of what that means. I know that these words I write were decreed in pre-eternity, that my vision is encompassed, that my heart beats inside my chest by means of a Grace Without Limit. God is with me wherever I am – I am because God is. All around me and in me I see my Lord, and yet my heart’s desire is distant. God is a Hidden Benefactor, sending me sweet messages of pleasure and pain, reminding me of the Decree in every breath I take. But I long for more than the gifts and the reflections and the memory.

God controls all the ways that lead to God. I cannot take one step without God’s permission. I can long all I want, shedding tears for decades, but it is not my emotions or thoughts which unlock the doors to ma’iyya. To be with. What does that mean?! I am already with God. There is not a particle of dust that dances in the soft sunlight but that God knows it, God created it, God sustains it, God is “with” it. And that particle will vanish from the record of the world, but I will remain, for all eternity, because God is “with” me. Before time existed, God decreed that I would be forever. Everything I am has always existed in the Knowledge of God, so how could I ever not be with Allah?! These emotions, these thoughts, these words I type – they are not mine. They are God acting in me. God is more “with” me than I am with myself.

But no matter how much my heart begs to “see” God, to “feel” God, to “hear” God, to “know” God in a deeper, more real and intimate way, the occupations of the day will come as a means of forgetting about the pain of longing for a moment. Distraction will take the edge off. God has built these prisons walls for a purpose known in its fullness only by God, so how can I complain about the decision of my Lord?! So I wait, and write these words, a love letter to One who already knows what I am going to say.

What is there left to do but ask God to make my life in this world a perpetual increase in every good, and make my death a relief from every evil, taking shelter in the words of God’s Beloved, the one who distributes this nectar to all arwah.

Ya Mujeeb Ya Mujeeb Ya Mujeeb

I hold onto al-Mustafa’s cloak with all of my might, hoping to catch a ride to sidrat al-muntaha. I did not ask him for permission to tag along. I just grabbed him and wouldn’t let go, leaving aside any thought other than the inextinguishable yearning that makes me abandon all etiquette. Permission was granted the moment he informed humanity that God would be seen just like the full moon.

Allahumma salli ‘ala sayyidina Muhammad wa aalih wa sallim

I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of God

I bear witness that the Garden is true and that the Fire is true

and that we will all be resurrected.

Why?

Because this world is too small for me.

The intimate details of my heart can only be satisfied by the One in whom I hope

Even if I were to live a thousand lives, this world could not fill me

of its beauties, its tragedies, its longings, its crushingly sweet/bitter moments

to know and to be known, to experience and to be experienced

all of that, over and over again

forever chasing the traces of Layla

uncontrollable tears of separation, transcendent rapture of nearness

so I set my sights on her abode

the place she is calling me to in my dreams

where she will give me everything and more

لِلَّذِينَ أَحْسَنُوا الْحُسْنَىٰ وَزِيَادَةٌ

Commentary

“I bear witness that there is no god but God / I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of God / I bear witness that the Garden is true and that the Fire is true / and that we will all be resurrected. / Why?”

- The purpose of theology (‘aqida/kalam) is to distinguish what is true from what is false, and to provide us with a blueprint of the unseen things which God wants us to know about and believe in. This reality is contained in the first words of the Qur’an, “Who taught humanity that which they did not know” (96.5). However, theology does not address the emotional and psychological states which bring these beliefs to life. There has to be a deeper reason why we believe what we do, otherwise we are just theological robots. Perhaps some people are afraid of God’s punishment. Perhaps others are interested in philosophical questions about epistemology and ontology. Perhaps others are motivated by feelings of desire and longing for God and all that God has promised to give to those whom He loves.

“Because this world is too small for me. / The intimate details of my heart can only be satisfied by the One in whom I hope / Even if I were to live a thousand lives, this world could not fill me / of its beauties, its tragedies, its longings, its crushingly sweet/bitter moments / to know and to be known, to experience and to be experienced / all of that, over and over again / forever chasing the traces of Layla”

- There is so much that is beautiful and exciting in this world. One can imagine living many lives, seeking after all that seems worth seeking. However, what the spiritual life teaches us is that what we are really longing for is God. Everything that we desire in this world is a reflection of God’s infinite bounty. So the intelligent person focuses on the Source of Gifts, as opposed to obsessing about the gift itself.

In the Islamic tradition, there are stories about a man named Majnun (“the crazy one”) who is in love with a beautiful woman named Layla. Majnun is a metaphor for the human being in love with God, and Layla is a metaphor for God. If we ever caught a glimpse of the true Beauty of God, we would lose our taste for any of the pleasures of this world or the next. Majnun has seen Layla, and so he is uninterested in anything else. Whenever he shows attachment to anything that is not Layla herself, it is only because it reminds him of Layla. Most human beings are “chasing the traces of Layla” and it is only the most fortunate who move on to focus on seeking God without any intermediaries.

“uncontrollable tears of separation, transcendent rapture of nearness / so I set my sights on her abode / the place she is calling me to in my dreams / where she will give me everything and more / لِلَّذِينَ أَحْسَنُوا الْحُسْنَىٰ وَزِيَادَةٌ”

- A reality of the spiritual life is alternating states of expansion (bast) and contraction (qabd). Sometimes, God gives us a taste of spiritual bliss, and we desire nothing else. Other times, God chooses to contract our state, and we feel a painful sense of distance from God. Both states are needed to propel us forward towards God. Expansion allows us to know, with a deeper sense of certainty, that closeness to God is the greatest thing a human being can experience. Contraction allows us to prove our sincerity by persevering in our worship of God, even when we don’t seem to be getting anything out of it. The reality is that God is deserving of worship no matter what, because God is God, not because we get spiritual or material benefits from doing so.

God has called us back, through revelation (wahy), the lofty examples of the Prophets and Messengers (may peace be upon them), the stirrings of our hearts, and more. God invites us to uncover the Beauty and the Majesty of the Divine, by means of appreciating the good in this world, sacrificing for and reflecting on the bounties of the Abode of Peace (dar al-salam), and through direct witnessing of God. The verse of Qur’an mentioned in the poem means, “for those who acheive ihsan, there is the best and more” (10.26). The scholars of Qur’anic commentary tell us that the “more” in this verse is the direct witnessing of God in Paradise, and indicates the fact that this is the greatest reward given to those whom God loves. This reality is beautifully described by Shaykh Muhammad Adeyinka Mendes (may God preserve him and allow us to benefit thorugh him):

“The greatest blessing and delight of Heaven is to see God. Not virgins, not eternal youths, not palaces, not rivers of milk, honey, or wine, nor the company of pure beings. There is absolutely nothing that surpasses the ecstasy, peace, and happiness of seeing The Creator. The human blessed with this glorious vision forgets all of the other joys, rewards, and bliss of Paradise after seeing The One who is not encompassed by Heaven. Now the essence of the Spiritual Path (ihsan), according to Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings on him and his folk) is that one comes to serve God as though one sees Him, so in effect the point of the Spiritual Path is to experience this penultimate blessing and delight while you are still living on Earth, before you die. And with this experience of the beatific vision sustaining you, to go forward with your own unique gifts and change your corner of the world for the better.”

I am no longer a convert. I am a Muslim. I am a member of the global ummah of Muhammad, may God send him blessings and peace. I am an eternal servant of God, struggling to uncover the reality of his eternal servitude, called svarupa in Sanskrit. And I am no longer interested in trying to prove that I am authentic, to myself, to other Muslims, and to skeptical white people. There is part of me that wants to share with you a list of all the reasons that I am legit, but that would just reinforce the idea that I need to prove myself. It is a spiritual sickness.

I want to move on to new things. I have always loved studying Hinduism, and I want to really get back into that. I have been doing it since Hajj, and it has been really wonderful. It almost feels like I have permission to study something of non-Islamic provenance because I went on Hajj twice. What a weird idea! Obviously, this means I have less time to study fiqh, hadith, Arabic, etc., but to be perfectly honest, I am kinda’ burned out on that. Much of it feels repetitive, stilted, or irrelevant. I’d rather study Hindi, Bengali or Sanskrit right now than work on my Arabic.

Most Muslims that I know haven’t studied a quarter of what I have studied, and yet, there is still this part of me that thinks I need to be studying Islamic Studies day and night in order to be a good servant of God. Not that this is inherently a bad thing, and may God preserve those who do so, and benefit us through them. But I think there is a point to be made here that is larger than just my own idiosyncratic mental states.

Classical Islamic civilization produced scholars like al-Biruni, who studied Sanskrit and wrote competently about the philosophy of Vedanta. They were rooted in their own “Islamic” perspective, but they were not afraid of the complexity of the world. They could encounter new ideas and ways of life without fear that they would lose their faith and practice in the process. The Muslims of 1433 A.H., en masse, have lost that. We are a reactionary and fearful religious community, and that creates a spiritual discourse which smacks of hypocrisy. We are obsessed with quotations in Arabic, and jump on people if they put eternal truths in their own idiom. There are even some Muslims who are so afraid of the Islamic legacy in the Arabic language that they feel the need to re-edit classical books, and be on the constant lookout for that which is suspicious or of foreign origin. May God guide those people, really. It is pathetic, when you really think about it: the reactionary literalism of a dying civilization. If we really have the Universal Truth at our fingertips, then what is there to fear about stock markets, Jay Z, Hindu theology, and whatever else exists in Earth?! We should be able to embrace everything, sift the true from the false, clarify the right from the wrong, and live as confident, spiritual leaders amongst humanity. Otherwise, we are just the chewed up remnants of modernity, divorced from ourselves and excluded from agency.

I need to walk in this direction, because as Amir Sulaiman stated more eloquently than I can, it is sad to pretend you are sick with the diseases of others. Perhaps when I converted, I caught a little bit of this global contagion, but with the medicine of the saints, I’ve returned to myself and need to move on. I’ve got my own issues to work through, and I trust my spiritual advisors to help me improve, if God wills. But I know now that I can no longer live and study and write and preach as if Islam is in jeopardy in any way. If Islam is the path of submission to the All-Powerful (al-Qadir), then to worry about the health of the path is to assume that you have a power to protect it that God does not have, which is a textbook example of shirk.

Islam is about uncovering who we are: servants of God. It is not a tribe, nor a system, nor an ideology, nor a unified political entity. It is a way of looking at the universe, it is a way of living and dying, it is about seriously listening to the One who is All-Hearing, All-Seeing. It is something we have always known, deep in our hearts, and it is about all of our dreams and hopes for the future. Conversion is about outward forms – I am interested in the realities that make those forms even worth caring about.

Satsvarupa Dasa Goswami is a Hindu scholar, and a prolific author. I have read some of his books over the years, and benefitted from them in unusual ways. Recently, I read part of his commentary on a Hindu scripture, Bhagavata Purana. One of the things that I like about his writing is that it is plentiful and honest, as if it provides a window into who he is, with all of his complexity. I feel the desire to do just that. I have been writing for myself a lot over the last few years, but recently, I have felt the desire to share my thoughts with others again. I hope that some readers might benefit from something I have written, as the words of so many other writers continue to benefit me. God alone is al-Nafi’, the One who brings benefit, and I seek refuge in Him.

I am not typical, that I know. A Whiteamerican Muslim who loves studying about Hinduism and listening to emo and metal, just to name a few of my characteristics. It all makes sense to me, but it probably doesn’t make sense to many others. Because there are so few occasions in the day to actually share these idiosyncratic thoughts, I turn to writing. Otherwise, I feel I might boil over. How else can I share with you what is in my heart? You can take the time to read what I have written, or not. It is your choice to read, just as it is my choice to write.

I can write nothing without the permission of God, but what I write is subject to God’s judgement. I do not claim to have all the answers or to be above committing error. But I need to write, and I relish feedback, both positive and negative. It is the interplay between the author and the reader that makes writing come alive. When I read Satsvarupa’s books, written for an audience steeped in a religious culture different than my own, I make those books my own by the way in which I appropriate them. I can guarantee you that he did not anticipate someone like myself reading his books, but that is what God has arranged. It is a mixed up and complex world in which we live, and God is the Controller of all of it.

I want to share with people the intimate melodies of my heart

Can you hear Bilal’s cry, “Ahad!”

There is but One we worship, who leads us through the forest of our subjectivities to arrive at the meadow of witnessing

We are trapped in a prison of our selves

But we can share our breaths with each other

And drink in the glimpses we have seen of al-Wasi’ al-Dhahir

Share with me what you have seen

And I will share with you what I have seen

And together we will paint a beautiful corner

Of a canvas with limitless borders

For we too are part of that canvas

Our breaths

Our faces

Our experiences

Witnessed and witnessing

The infinite dance of Being

I know that there are some out there who will be uncomfortable with what I have written. What can I say? I am who God created me to be, and I am struggling to make sense of it all, and live in the best way. If you have some advice, please give it, but I might not take it. Some of it I have already considered and rejected, and some of it I have already adopted. My goal is not to be perfect according to what you think perfection should be. My goal is to understand God, the world, and myself, and to live in harmony with that understanding. If my understanding is incomplete, that should come as no surprise. If my life is not fully in harmony with Truth, that should not be unexpected. I have been, and will always be, a mercy case.

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. 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.

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.

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.

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.

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)