Naeem's Blog

When I was young, sufficient for me was the usage of fear and punishment as a deterrent from committing wrongs. In my oh-so-simple outlook on life and Islam, punishment in the hellfire was all I needed to intellectually dissuade me from partaking in the haram (not that I always conformed to what I was convinced of).

Divine threats of eternal punishment, prophetic traditions detailing the various torments, and weekly khutbahs lecturing on the chastisement of the afterlife – all cemented in me that most base of human instincts: self-preservation.

My faith was built on a foundation of saving my hide. Oh and that other pillar of sensual pleasure, promoted by the hedonistic images of heavenly pleasures. That didn't hurt either.

But as I matured, my motivation for avoiding the forbidden and practicing the commendable had less to do with base desires (fear and lust) and more to do with my relationship with Allah (swt).

Don't get me wrong - such motivational tools are not to be disparaged, for surely the masses are influenced by both the carrot and the stick. Allah (swt) Himself promotes this methodology as the Quran is replete with verses reminding us of the pleasures of Heaven and the punishment of Hell.

But I personally found it lacking, even problematic, for a relationship of love to be fostered in the shade of heaven and hell.

This transformation in my relationship with Allah (swt) bears an uncanny resemblance to the one cultivated between a child and his parents. During the younger years, the child is taught to obey through a combination of strict discipline, positive encouragement, and lots of toys. As the child becomes an adult, those ‘gimmicks’ are replaced with a mature relationship based on deep-seated love and genuine respect between parent and child.

So when tempted to look at something inappropriate, my incentive to look the other way comes less from fear of punishment than from fear of that dark spot on my heart, fear of falling a degree away from Allah (swt), fear of displeasing Him, disappointing Him.

And when I bite my tongue and swallow my anger, its not for the reward of palace made of gold or an everlasting supply of Cocoa Puffs, but for the chance that Allah (swt) is smiling at me, proud of me, maybe even complimenting me to His company of angels.

Now *that* is a reward worth struggling for.

Disclaimer: I dare not claim to be on some sort of higher ground on the evolutionary scale of spiritual development. I fully recognize the possibility of a simplistic desert Bedouin or an illiterate village farmer having a stronger relationship with Allah (swt) based purely on desire for heaven and fear of hell. Those are legitimate devices to achieve the pleasure of Allah (swt). I have simply found them to be insufficient for my personal journey back to my Creator.