Naeem's Blog

In these spiritually uplifting days of Ramadan, I was reminded of this post from several years ago about my best friend. Looking back, I felt it may have been a bit too cryptic. As you read through it, are you able to conclude that I was referring to my relationship with my sajdah (prostration)?

Anyways, I hope we all can appreciate this most powerful of blessings bestowed upon us by our Lord. The joy of humbly joining head to ground is one never felt by the vast majority of mankind.

Take advantage, especially in the remaining days of Ramadan!

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You are my best friend.

Words cannot describe how I feel when you visit.

When you and I sit together, I feel so …refreshed?…liberated? ...fulfilled? ...comforted? ...drained? ... depressed? …remorseful? I feel so…me. I don't need to pretend to be what I am not. You accept me for me.

When we talk, you give me a head rush. Really, my head goes into a spin with all my varying thoughts. Yet I never tire of our sittings.

When you visit, all my other activities are put on hold. You force me to concentrate solely on you. Normally I wouldn't accept such pretentiousness from anyone, but from you it's different.

When I'm with you, no one bothers us. No one. People see us together and they know to leave us alone. The world may think I'm crazy when they see us conversing, but those who understand your beauty, they understand.

And it's amazing how our visits last without you uttering a single word. I do all the talking. You quietly listen. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes I smile. Often we both sit and stare at each other. Other times I release all my frustrations. Always you quietly listen.

I most enjoy our late night sessions. Your cold long stares empower me to confront the ugliness of my past. You sit quietly looking into my eyes, motionless, expressionless, undaunted by the heaviness of the moment. You strip me of everything, leaving me quivering in the cold of the night.

Then you grab hold of me. Your warm embraces give me hope, reminding me of the Mercy of the Merciful. Alas I do not have Jibreel (as) to come take hold of me, for that was unique to our dear Prophet (saw) when he was commanded to read. But your embraces will suffice for this meager soul.

But to be honest, for a best friend you don't visit me often enough. Yeah, I know it's my fault that I don't invite you, but sometimes I wish you would come over uninvited, like you used to. Remember those days? I would be engulfed in some tedious task or maybe just daydreaming my time away and out of nowhere you'd drop by. Those were the days! Oh how I wish to return to those days of spontaneous love!

I've tried thinking about Allah (swt) when you aren't around, but its just not the same. The sweetness of dhikr is absent without your presence.

Few are the creations of Allah (swt) that when gazed upon act as an instant reminder of the Creator. You my friend are one of those rare creations. You remind me of my Creator. He blessed me the day I met you. He blesses me everyday that I meet you. And I dread the day that He takes you away from me.

What will I ever do without you?! You are truly my best friend.

Every now and then, we are struck with gentle reminders by the Most Subtle - Al-Lateef - (swt) that our fast-paced life is not the most conducive way to gain nearness to Him. This video is one of those reminder:


(h/t Deenport)

All too often we take our Wudu for granted, whizzing through it without any sense of spiritual awareness. Even this most basic act of worship, which many of us learned in our childhood, has the potential to be a refreshing spiritual experience.

But only if we allow it.

I found this video very effective in injecting some life into one of my more 'programmed' acts of worship. I really need more humanity in my worship. I guess that's what happens when we gain all our knowledge from books and mp3 lectures.

(Sigh)

It is well known that in the Islamic Spiritual Sciences destroying one’s nafs is the key to Paradise. As one sheikh stated, “Eternal bliss is achieved in two steps. First, step on your nafs, then take the next step into Jannah.”

And it was with this in mind that I read this NY Times op-ed piece, ‘It’s Not About You.’ David Brooks writes about the outgoing class of college graduates who have been misled by baby-boomer theology oozing with ill-advised individualism: “Follow your passion, chart your own course, march to the beat of your own drummer, follow your dreams and find yourself.”

He talks about a world that operates on individuals committing to something – a family, a job, a cause – but this new generation (I would argue this extends to the past few generations) is being brainwashed with talk of freedom, autonomy, “finding your passion and pursuing your dreams”.

“Most of us are egotistical and most are self-concerned most of the time, but it’s nonetheless true that life comes to a point only in those moments when the self dissolves into some task.”

While the author didn’t have this in mind, the ultimate goal for a Muslim is to dissolve his/her self (nafs) not into some task, but into pleasing Allah (swt). And by way of centuries of experience gained by the masters of the spiritual path, we have come to know that one cannot satisfy one’s self while struggling to satisfy one’s Lord. It can only be one or the other.

That’s why I love how the author wraps up his piece:

“The purpose in life is not to find yourself. It’s to lose yourself.”

Lose yourself in the struggle for the company of Allah (swt).
Lose yourself in the company of Allah (swt).
Lose yourself in Allah (swt).

After all, isn’t that the supreme aspiration defined by the one who most perfectly embodied this process of losing one’s self, the Prophet (saw), when he uttered these sublime words of Allah (swt) in a famous hadith qudsi:

“...and My slave keeps on coming closer to Me through performing Nawafil (extra deeds besides what is obligatory) till I love him. When I love him I become his hearing with which he hears, his seeing with which he sees, his hand with which he strikes, and his leg with which he walks...".

Because it's never to early to start getting ready for Ramadan.

Rajab is here and so we're two months away. Here's a nice post on the blessings of Rajab.

"The Prophet (may Allah bless him and grant him peace) said: “Rajab is the month of Allah, Sha`bān is my month, and Ramadan is the month of my Ummah.”...Imam Abu Bakr al-Warraq said: “in the month of Rajab you sow the seeds, in Sha`ban you irrigate them and in Ramadan you reap the harvest.” He also said: “Rajab is like a wind, Sha`ban is like a cloud and Ramadan is like rain.”"

This past week I read this well-written post over at MuslimMatters. The author, Ibnabeeomar, logically presented his case on many Muslims missing the forest for the trees when they go to extremes in arguing for Halal/Zabiha meat all the while riba-based transactions plague their personal finances. It’s a beautiful piece that I recommend all of you take the time to read.

Many Muslims living in the West are understandably bothered by the petty arguments and polemics surrounding recurring hot topics such as Halal-vs-Zabiha, moonsighting, and participating in elections. They make the case for moving on and focusing on ‘bigger fish to fry’.

I couldn’t agree more.

Here in Saudi Arabia, while many of the issues particular to the West are non-existent, the same disease (‘missing-the-big-picture’-itis) plagues Muslims here as well. The problem here, as I see it, is that Muslims are stuck in neutral with their non-stop focus on Aqeedah.

This constant infatuation with perfecting one’s Aqeedah is like a never-ending cycle of mastering one’s basic math skills. It’s not enough that a class full of children is able to proficiently add and subtract, but they must all do it in exactly the same manner. It matters not that one student uses his fingers to add while another draws lines on paper to subtract or another does it all in her head. They must all continue studying this basic skill until it’s absolutely flawless.

I see this same counterproductive approach to this most fundamental of Islamic sciences. These Muslims, whose sincerity I do not question, overlook the social, educational, political and economic tragedies currently facing the Muslim world, believing the root cause of all our problems is our imperfect Aqeedah. If we simply focused on properly understanding Tauheed and all its ramifications, they claim, then Allah (swt) would shower His blessings down upon us all.

Actually, I can’t argue with this last statement – except with the narrow scope of how they define the ramifications of true Tauheed. For them, it means studying books on Aqeedah ad infinitum. I, on the other hand, take it to mean a Tauheed-inspired worldview in which every aspect of our life, not just the theological minutiae of Aqeedah, are dictated by the One (swt).

The Oneness of Allah (swt) is not rocket science, folks. Everything we need to know we learned in Kindergarten Sunday School.

The Prophet (saw) declared, "By Allah! I am not afraid that you will worship others with Allah after my death, but I am afraid that you will fight with one another for this dunya.” So if our dear Prophet (saw) did not fear overt shirk becoming established amongst his Ummah, then why are we so engrossed by it?

We have lost sight of the bigger picture – connecting our hearts to Allah (swt) while directing our energies towards a world where Divine justice reigns supreme – choosing to instead focus on the gory details of where is Allah (swt) or exposing those who 'worship graves'.

Disclaimer #1: I am not trying to undermine the importance of studying Aqeedah. But just as basic arithmetic skills are critical in creating a foundation for higher maths, Aqeedah is but a foundation for higher Islamic endeavors.

Disclaimer #2: Saudi Arabia is not alone in her ‘missing-the-big-picture’-itis. Every Muslim land suffers from this disease in one way or another. I just picked on their over-infatuation of Aqeedah as emblematic of the problem.

Most Americans are well aware of the recent travails of the US Government in finalizing their federal budget. In making his case for balancing the budget, Obama argued that “every day, families sacrifice to live within their means. They deserve a government that does the same."

However, Ted Rall makes his counter-argument against this myth that American families are thrifty and keen on balancing their personal budgets. In addition to informing us of the facts (the average family has a debt of nearly $11,000), he posits this interesting scenario:

“If consumer credit vanished, the corporato-capitalist system currently prevailing in the U.S. would deteriorate from its current, merely unsustainable form into total chaos. Without credit cards and other loans citizens would seethe, trapped between the mutually irreconcilable forces of falling wages and the aggressive advertising and marketing of products they would never be able to afford. There would only be two possible long-term outcomes: revolution, or the ruling classes would be forced to pay substantially higher wages to workers. To corporate elites, the latter choice would be too unpalatable to countenance.”

Of the two possible outcomes of a credit-free society that Rall discusses, the latter (paying higher wages to workers) is a very intriguing situation. It would undoubtedly cut into the colossal wealth of the top one percent, but the resulting economic justice would provide for a far more acceptable standard of living for the majority.

Such a course of action, I believe, is promoted by the Islamic economic ethos. This is but one example of what the Shariah would provide to its participants – a more just economic system, where capitalistic greed is not given the absolute free reign it has been afforded by modern-day capitalism.

Too bad such intellectual thought exercises are missing from the discussions on Shariah.

Instead, let us continue the fear-mongering and adventures in disinformation. After all, why bother trying to understand the intricate details of Islamic economic jurisprudence when it’s so much easier to simply pass off scary images of bearded Mullahs, honour killings, and dhimmi taxes as wholly representative of Shariah?

Two of the most basic and powerful words of dhikr, known even to Muslim pre-schoolers, are the beautiful words SubhanAllah (سبحان الله ) and Alhamdul-Illah (الحمد لله) . Found sprinkled throughout the Quran and Prophetic sayings, the former is often translated as ‘Glory be to Allah’, while the latter as ‘Praise to Allah’.

And ever since ever, I’ve always had a difficult time internalizing these two most fundamental words of divine remembrance.

What does it really mean to Glorify Allah? After all, the entire heavens and earth are in a constant state of divine glorification. How can I join them, notwithstanding my mere vocalization of the term? Why are these two terms so often found interconnected? How are the two different from each other? Glory is in some ways similar to Praise, so aren’t these two adhkaar (pl. dhikr) somewhat redundant?

I felt that I needed a deeper connection with these two terms. And the common translations and explanations simply weren’t cutting it.

Until I heard a recent lecture where the speaker really broke it down in a most effective manner.

He explained that SubhanAllah is declaring Allah’s purity. Allah (swt) is pure from all negative qualities. He is free from all deficiencies. He is void of all defects - defects we may commonly associate with His creation. Thus, we are affirming Allah’s divinity by freeing Him of any and all anthropomorphic qualities.

He is free from all that is Evil.

And when we follow it with Alhamdul-Illah, we are praising Allah for all His positive traits. After having removed the possibility of any negative qualities, we are now declaring that He is perfect in all His positive qualities. He is perfect in His power, His knowledge, His mercy, His love, His sight, His hearing, and so on.

He is perfect in all that is Good.

While the former negates, the latter affirms.
While the former voids, the latter validates.
While the former empties, the latter fills.

Together, they form the perfect symbiotic relationship of words to describe and praise Allah (swt).

This is a repost from several years ago. Considering my current state of spiritual affairs, I felt this post to be timely. Maybe some of you may feel the same way.

Enjoy!

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Riyadh is a very dusty city; sandy would be a better word if only it didn't sound so feminine. Being situated in the middle of a desert might explain this oh-so-special trait of Riyadh. Sandstorms sweep through on a weekly, sometimes nightly basis. Makes for a funtime if you like the grit of sand between your teeth. The geographical location of this oasis city results in a very trying time for those who are allergically sensitive to dust. And I am allergically sensitive to dust.

Recently its gotten too much, especially in the early mornings. I'm waking up with a tissue in my hand, eyes watering and nose dripping. Its hard enough waking for Fajr at 3:30 in the morning, but its even harder with these allergies beckoning me back to sleep.

I can tough it out I think to myself. It'll go away. It always goes away. But never without a fight.

But man, this time its tough. My allergy attacks never lasted more than a couple days and here I am going on day four with no sign of relief. If I'm not blowing my nose, I'm sneezing.

Don't get me wrong, sneezing isn't always a bad thing. The body always benefits from this indiscriminate system reboot. After all, when Allah(swt) blew the spirit into Adam, he sneezed followed by a hearty 'Praise be to Allah'. So I like the occasional sneeze. Just not when I'm trying to snuggle into my inviting bed of dhikr wearing my cozy pajamas of taqwa waiting to savor every sip of my hot cup of Divine Love.

Go away, you unwelcome vagabond! This is supposed to me my personal quiet time. I’ve been making excuses for the past several months that I’ll get my spiritual mojo back come summer. I just need some silence and stillness I convinced myself, and I’ll be back dancing with the angels, cloud hopping in the presence of my beloved (saw), drunk with the dhikr of Allah.

Oh how I yearn for those days of intense inner tranquility when I found my soul in sync with my surroundings – all peace all the time. I want back my early morning Tahajjud prayers but these allergies are mockingly denying me, ‘Thank your Lord you’re catching Fajr.’ I want to revisit the sweet silence of sajdah (prostration), but my throbbing sinuses are screaming, ‘Get up you moron or I’m going to implode your head!’ I want my free-flowing tears back, but all my puffy eyes have to offer are annoying watery bubbles. I’ve foolishly planned all year for this moment, *my* moment, naively thinking spiritual ecstasy can be summoned like a genie from the lamp.

And here some stupid specks of sand are sullying my immature aspirations. Ah, the justice of it all.

Day four and I’m getting desperate.

I finally turn to Him. How sad that I only knock on His door when I’m desperate, when all else has failed but that’s the least of my worries right now.

"Ya Allah, please help me. Please help me for no other reason but to allow me to begin my journey back to You."

Blank. I stammer and stutter only to append some hollow prayers that I memorized in Sunday School.

Huh? Is that all I can conjure up?! Is my inside so dry, parched from the heat of my lowly passions that I can’t even muster a respectable appeal? How pathetic!

Confident that they’ve found an ideal incubator, my allergies snicker at my paltry plea with a loud sneeze.

I have got to kickstart my heart after my embarrassingly long existential hibernation just so I can *begin* to put together some coherent thoughts in the presence of my Creator. I can’t even make the simplest prayer. Fitting I suppose. Can’t waltz right into the King’s court in your jammies with crusty eyes and nasty morning breath expecting His audience.

You fool! You get what you deserve.

For too long my desires have sucked my heart dry of its vitality. I have fueled my anger, overfed my stomach, allowed free reign to my tongue, and harbored thoughts unthinkable.

Woe am I! How I wish atonement for my heedlessness could be achieved by a hundred lashes to my heart. If it were just that simple.

Ya Allah, but why complicate my endeavor with such an unnecessary impediment? At least play fair. Remove the allergies and give me a fighting chance.

But then it hits me in the midst of my blasphemous tirade. Who am I to decide when and where and how I can approach the court of His Majesty? How arrogant of me to think that I can schedule my purification!

'Silly child, My door is always open to those in search of My Mercy, but those who wish to run in and out will find Me not so welcoming of the tracks made by their muddy shoes on the carpet of My Love'

These allergies are a gentle, loving rebuke by the Most Compassionate. It is His way of letting me know that this journey is not to be taken lightly as an amusement or a sport.

'Wipe your shoes at the door and don't go back out again.'

Day five and I wake up with nothing. I barely even noticed until I went down into sajdah and realized I could breath.

With tears I refused to hold back in a sajdah I refused to arise from, I cried 'You are so beautiful to me and I am so ugly to You. You give and You give while I take and I take. What has this despicable slave ever done to deserve Your attention? When will I ever be able to give back to You? How will I ever be able to give back to You?'

This is the story of my Divine Intervention.

For those of you who observe the night of mid-Sha'ban (Nisfu-Sha'ban, Shabe-Barat), July 27 is the 15th of Sha'ban, making this Monday night the night to spend in extra worship and Tuesday the day to fast. Read here for more information regarding this special occasion.

As for those of you who don't observe this night, too bad. Your loss.

Most of you have heard about the latest audio release by Imam Anwar Al-Awlaki (the audio and a response). In the past few years, many of those in the West who found immense inspiration in his audio series on the Lives of the Prophets, the life of Abu Bakr, and the Hereafter have become disillusioned with his transformation to a revolutionary supporter of Jihad.

One of the common arguments used against Awlaki is that he once espoused universalist messages of Islam (“Islam is peace”, “Muslims are against terrorism”, etc.) and then (after the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq), he transformed into the exact opposite. The argument continues that such a revolution of thought is a sign of instability and misguidance.

Regardless of where you may stand on his views, there is one point that we should all agree upon – an evolution of thought does not always indicate a deficient understanding of the truth.

Similar arguments are made against Sheikh Hamza Yusuf, who took a somewhat inverted approach to Awlaki’s journey, going from a firebrand speaker, calling on Muslims in the West to disassociate themselves from the wayward mores of Western society, to an assimilationist, preaching a more tolerant message of Islam in the West.

I find many people negatively critical of individuals who go through intellectual renovations. The implication being that those persons who consistently stick to the same worldview have a more solid base and represent a more balanced frame of mind.

Nonsense.

These same people refuse to study and analyze thoughts and teachings espoused by anyone outside their outlook, fearful of diluting their ‘intellectual purity’. They claim that guidance can only come from their ‘authentic’ scholars and unabashedly reject all others as deviant.

The irony is that these folks are actually the ones on weak foundations since they’re too afraid to be intellectually challenged by foreign ideas.

Imam Ghazali is the most famous example of intellectual evolution, going from a more exoteric life as an Islamic judge (Qadi) to a more esoteric life of Ihsan and spiritual excellence. In the process, he embraced the challenges posed by other methodologies, such as contemporary philosophy (Falsafa) and extreme theology (Bataniyya, Mutazila).

Personally, I’ve never shied from reading works by authors outside my personal point of view. And in the process, I’ve come to adjust and reinvent my outlook, while always keeping my foundation fixed firmly on the fundamental principles of Islam.

Sure, some of my colleagues have been critical of my intellectual ebbs and flows but I personally find myself stronger in my convictions after having challenged them against countering ideas.

Not sure why so many people are afraid/critical of the maturation process of one's personal thought. I guess it's easier to stand behind the cover of select scholars, blindly regurgitating their words than to withstand the barrage of intellectual arrows in the battlefield of ideas.

that although my Creator, the Lord of all that exists in the heavens and the earth, Who existed before there was anything and will remain after there is nothing, Who is in no need of my feeble self, descends all the way from the highest heaven to the lowest heaven *every single night* for the sole purpose of listening to my pleas, I refuse to descend simply from my cozy bed to the prayer mat on the ground beside it to avail His infinite mercy!

Our Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said: "The Lord descends every night to the lowest heaven when one-third of the night remains and says: Who will call upon Me that I may answer Him? Who will ask of Me, that I may give him? Who will seek My forgiveness, that I may forgive him?"

Well, this video is not technically a CNN report. It was produced by Suroosh Alvi of VBS.TV, but CNN is hosting Part 1 (Part 2 is here). So it's close enough.

Anyways, a friend forwarded me this video report and I must admit my ambivalence towards the overall tone. It's really geared towards the regular man on the street. The narrator takes extreme liberty in describing this most sacred rite in Islam, at one point comparing the crowds performing tawaaf to a mosh pit, but so be it. Such are the times we live in.

At the same time, he seemed generally apologetic in presenting the Hajj rites to his non-Muslim audience. For example, I found it odd how he expressed his concern that the airplane scene where all the passengers were chanting the Talbiyya made them look like a bunch of terrorists. Also, why did he mention the Filipino stewardesses and how they wished they were anywhere else in the world?

And when describing Madina, he talked about the camels and malls and oh yeah, there's also this cool looking mosque called the Prophet's Mosque. Huh? Isn't that the ONLY reason for going to Madina? And what about that tiny little detail of our Prophet (saw) being buried there? No mention. The stopover in Madina was all about getting into some 'meditative state'.

And since I'm all about picking on my brother Suroosh, it would've been nice if he had mentioned that the Ka'bah was built by Prophet Abraham (as). After all, he is the patriarch for the three main monotheistic faiths.

Maybe I'm reading too much into the flow of his piece, but I simply didn't care for his vibe.

He seems to have taken the Orientalist approach of communicating the Hajj experience to the Western public. He (and by extension, his audience) represent the world of sanity and civility while the millions of heathen pilgrims fill the role of the unsophisticated 'Other'. Clamoring on bus rooftops, jostling for position in front of the Kaaba, sleeping on the streets of Mina - these are the bedraggled masses hopelessly littering the sacred grounds of Mecca.

In addition to his questionable tone, I wanted to also make some corrections:

1. He says that video recording is strictly prohibited in the sanctuary of Mecca and so he secretly recorded his video footage and smuggled it out. Sure, if you're walking around with a huge camera on your shoulder, like those used by cameramen working for broadcast networks. But tiny digital cameras have become so ubiquitous that the Saudi authorities basically turn a blind eye. That's what allowed me to record this and this. And I recorded both videos in the open without any need for sneaking the footage out of Mecca.

2. The fancy high-rise hotels that shocked and disappointed the narrator are NOT solely for the super rich. In fact, most of the guests staying in those hotels are regular folks who are staying there via discounted rates afforded by their Hajj/Umrah group. And even for the regular guest (like me), the average cost per night ranges from $120 to $150 for a double room, hardly the scope of the rich and famous.

3. And our video host makes another mistake when he claims that the super rich take those rooms in order 'to pray from the confines of their rooms', as if to avoid the dirty company of the masses found around the Holy Mosque. That may be said of the Royal Palace, reserved for Saudi royalty and visiting dignitaries, that overlooks the Haram, but the pilgrims staying in the surrounding hotels have come from all around the world for the sole purpose of standing in front of the Ka'bah. Not sure who he met that was praying from within his/her hotel room.

Near the end of the second part, he describes the scene of pilgrims lining the streets in their makeshift tents and plastic mats as apocalyptic. Sure, I guess it may come off as a bit dreary and morbid from the confines of an air-conditioned bus. But in reality, when one moves away from the five-star accommodations afforded to pilgrims coming from the West and walks the streets with the 'regular' pilgrim, one only senses joy and elation. Thankfully, both times I was blessed to make the Hajj, I was able to get a taste of the more simplistic Hajj and I would most definitely not describe it as apocalyptic.

I’ve been recently listening to Sh. Imran Hosein and I must say that I find many of his teachings very much resonating with my personal thoughts. And so, as part of my ongoing contribution to the world, I will write up some posts summarizing a few of his lectures. Let me begin with a most beautiful explanation he has given of the first four verses of Sura al-Layl:

Consider the night as it veils in darkness, (92:1)
and the day as it rises bright! (92:2)
Consider the creation of the male and the female! (92:3)
Verily, you aim at most divergent ends! (92:4)

The night and the day are presented as two separate entities, followed immediately by a seemingly unrelated verse mentioning the creation of man and woman. It concludes with a proclamation that man (as he is commonly understood to be the subject of the verse) is full of diversity in his work.

In Sh. Imran’s understanding, the presentation of the day and the night is, in fact, directly linked to the creation of man and woman. As different as are the day and the night, so too are man and woman. The day with his sultry brightness is the period of toil and work. The night with her mysterious darkness is the place of cool comfort and serenity.

The day is naturally attracted to the night and the night to the day. When the day approaches the night, the skyline reflects the universal change in mood. The day calms himself in preparation for the night’s warm welcome. All the hustle and bustle found in the blazing heat of the day is brought to a soothing end.

As the day turns to dusk and the dusk turns to night, the tender embrace of the night overtakes the sluggish day. Once the day enters the night, he succumbs to her alluring influence and takes a backseat. The night reigns supreme within her domain.

And when the time comes for the day to leave, the night refuses to let him go quietly. She slowly releases the day, one ray at a time, until finally the day breaks free of her comforting grasp and goes back to work.

Presented as such, it becomes clear how the phenomenon of the day and night translates to the Quranic understanding of the relationship between man and woman.

What remains clear throughout this reading is that each of these creations of Allah (swt) are exceptionally unique. The day can never become the night (and vice versa) nor can man ever become woman (and vice versa). And if there was any doubt, the fourth verse puts it to rest by explicitly declaring that the functions of man and woman are separate. They are not to be confused nor mixed up. Just as the day and the night are complementary yet completely distinctive, so too are the roles of man and women.

Now let us see what would happen if the roles were to become distorted. If the night became the province of work (or other activities) with the day being used primarily for sleep, the result would be society-wide chaos. It's been proven, for the most part, that individuals working extended stints in the graveyard shift suffer a variety of medical conditions. Besides work, other types of nocturnal activities, in conjunction with the lack of sleep, undoubtedly result in lowered productivity and effectiveness. And finally Ben Franklin must have known what he was talking about when he coined the phrase ‘Early to bed, Early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.’ (smile)

Another noteworthy point in the interpretation of these verses is that neither the day nor the night can claim superiority – both are equally essential to maintain the natural balance. Only a fool would declare the day more important than the night. And only a vampire would declare the night more important than the day.

And so, one can easily deduce the Quranic view on claims of male (or female) superiority.

Many may question or even denounce such an unorthodox reading, but I found it extremely enlightening and very much in line with the ever-flowing wisdom found in the spiritually refreshing fountains of the Quran.

As I was coming into my personal Islamic awareness many years ago, I was convinced that the light of Islam would reignite itself from within America, similar to how Prophet Musa (as) was raised and reared in the house of Pharoah. Back then, I viewed the Muslim world as backwards and in need of serious guidance – which American Muslims, stripped of cultural baggage and historical hiccups, would readily provide them.

But recently, I’ve begun to feel serious disillusionment with this entire “American Islam”* project.

Maybe it’s all the desperate talk of Islam being compatible with western democracy, which is in actuality a crooked corporatocracy.

Maybe it’s the post 9-11 lulling that saw so many Muslims tone down their stance against American's secular hedonistic ways and imperialistic aspirations out of fear of sounding unpatriotic.

Maybe it’s the unfounded need by American Muslims (under immense pressure from MSM and the American military industry) to constantly denounce terrorism and the unfortunate extension of this condemnation to now include Islamists, who, although having never partaken in acts of terrorism, have nonetheless incurred their wrath.

Maybe it’s the convenient acceptance by many American Muslims of principles of gender relations as understood by Western society, relegating centuries of Islamic tradition on the role of men and women to history’s dustbin.

Maybe it’s the glaring dilution of the Islamic concept of Jihad, or worse, its deliberate suppression altogether.

Maybe it’s the callous attitude of American Muslims striving for the American dream while participating in a system that is ravaging the entire world, politically, militarily, economically, and environmentally.

Maybe it’s the unquestioning adoption of capitalistic maxims which finds American Muslims enslaved by their struggles for better jobs, bigger homes, and nicer cars – all the while claiming to be adhering to the Sunnah of our Prophet (saw).

Whatever it is that’s causing my unease, my dear brother Yursil captured my feelings quite well with his recent posts on Suburban Capitalist Islam (Part 1 and Part 2). While he didn’t address all my grievances, he did well to introduce a long list of oddities found in American Islam.

I particularly like his characterization of American Muslims as naively accepting of their adopted culture, as long as it doesn’t outwardly contradict any Islamic teaching. This includes the whole McDonalds, blue jeans, and Hollywood outlook of American culture. The widely accepted view is that American Islam can be formulated by simply weeding out the haram components of American culture and freely embracing what remains.

The problem is that the ethos of these remains is not Islamic.

The result is not American Islam, but a twisted version that I prefer to call Secular Capitalist Islam (taken from Yursil's term 'Suburban Capitalist Islam'). This Islam is primarily American, with an Islamic veneer, not the other way around. It is NOT Islamic with simply an American twist, like what may be found in China or Indonesia or Africa – those instances of Islam were never born in such a hostile environment (to Islam in specific and religion in general), necessitating great conciliatory gestures from its followers:

Change can only come about by way of assimilation and integration - otherwise, we will be deemed foreigners, anarchists, or terrorists.
The interest-based banking system is too entrenched to be questioned – the best we can do is minimize our exposure.
The educational system is our fast-track to success, regardless of any negative socio-intellectual repercussions.
Mixing politics with religion is taboo.
Scaling the corporate ladder is the only way to prosperity.
Gluttonously living beyond our means is completely acceptable.
All technological advances must be blindly embraced, regardless of socio-spiritual impact.
All forms of entertainment (adapted to Islamic mores, of course) are a necessary release from the pressures accumulated in daily life - this includes movies, music, sports, vacations, etc.
Environmentalism is about reducing our ecological footprint, not reducing our consumption.

These are the views underlying Secular Capitalist Islam, the core of which is fundamentally at odds with the Quranic worldview. And no amount of window dressing can alter this reality.

Just like most everything else in American culture, we’ve opted for the drive-thru version of actualizing Islam in America. Our instant recipe consists of slapping on a hijab or growing a beard, implementing the personal acts of worship, meekly presenting Islam to our friends and coworkers, and attending feel-good weekend Islamic programs, all the while diving headfirst into the American way of life.

And yes, I am aware of the American Muslim mantra that we have greater religious freedom in the West than our counterparts in the Muslim world. That may be true. And if it is, it makes the sin of Secular Capitalist Islam even more egregious. For instead of using this freedom to become moral leaders in the West and challenge the status quo, American Muslims have chosen passivity and integration, fearful of the repercussions of speaking out.

Where is the sacrifice that is inherent in the declaration of Tauheed and rejection of Taghut?

Where is the sacrifice that is inherent in the proclamation of love for the Prophet (saw)?

Sadly, Secular Capitalist Islam has replaced these sacred endeavors with the very profane struggle for the American dream.

In part 2, I want to discuss the legacy our children will be inheriting from us, the founding fathers of Secular Capitalist Islam.
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*I place the term in quotes because I’m not comfortable with creating varying flavors of Islam, but since the term is commonly used by so many American Muslims, I’ve stuck with it.

There are no coincidences in life. None whatsoever. Every single event takes place for a reason.

A few days ago, I posted about the unfortunate loss of my wife's purse, which contained, among other items, her two credit cards.

Then today, I was listening to a lecturer talking on Riba (Interest/Usury) present his argument against keeping credit cards. And I must admit, to date, his argument has been the most effective one I've heard:

When signing up for a credit card, we all agree to pay the interest fees in case the full balance is not paid off after the first month. Many Muslims (including yours truly) convince themselves that everything is halal as long as the payment is made before the end of the month.

But in essence, would we ever sign a similar contract that required us to drink a glass of beer at the end of the month if we didn't pay the credit card balance?

Worse yet, would we ever sign a contract that required us to fornicate with our neighbor's wife if we didn't pay the credit card balance?

In reality, the contract we are signing with the credit card company is much worse than the above examples. So how can any sane Muslim ever sign the dotted line on a credit card contract?

Simple, yet powerful.

And with that short lesson I am able to connect a few more dots in my life. The loss of the credit cards combined with the effect of the lecture has inspired me to be rid of these shiny plastic devils once and for all.

Mrs. Jenkins* ruined me.

I wish I had never learned how the sunrise is a result of the Earth's rotation.

I wish I had never learned that earthquakes are caused by the movement of tectonic plates.

I wish I had never learned how rain comes from condensation of water vapor carried within clouds.

I wish I had never learned that lightning is the discharge of atmospheric electricity accumulated within clouds.

I wish I had never learned how seasons are a result of the Earth's orbit around the Sun.

I wish had never learned about the body's immune system, white blood cells and all that other physio-medical-biological crap.

Can you imagine how much sweeter my faith in Allah would have been if I attributed all these natural phenomena solely to His direct involvement in my life, instead of viewing them as some bio-chemical reactions?

Every sunrise would be a reminder how Allah has 'pulled' this blazing ball of fire out from the horizon.

Every deluge of rain would be an instant cause to run to prayer thanking Allah for the blessing.

Every earthquake or volcanic eruption would be an immediate reminder of Allah's power and wrath.

Sickness and health would be the domain of Allah, not doctors and pharmacists.

I'm convinced that pre-Industrial Age Muslims had a sweeter taste of Iman due to their lack of scientific knowledge. We may laugh off their ignorance and backwardness, but I'm sure they were stronger in Iman than most of us - they attributed all these mysterious occurrences in nature to God.

They had no other recourse. They didn't analyze and rationalize every single natural phenomenon.

They took them as communications from their Creator. The universe was one great blessing (or trial) after another.

Merely looking up at the sky would inspire immediate awe in them as how could Allah place above them this magical canopy without pillars or poles.

But for us, the sky is simply an empty vacuum we call space.

I imagine every spring renewing and re-energizing their faith by their mere witnessing of the dead plants coming back to life.

But not us - we see photosynthesis in action.

Just great.

Damn you Mrs. Jenkins.

*Original names have been altered to protect the identity of stupid 8th grade science teachers.

"Whoever reads a letter from the Book of Allah, he will have a reward. And that reward will be multiplied by ten. I am not saying that “Alif, Laam, Meem” is a letter, rather I am saying that “Alif” is a letter, “laam” is a letter and “meem” is a letter.” So increase your recitation of the Qur’an to gain these merits, and to gain the following merit as well." (Prophetic Teaching)

I was raised in a traditional Pakistani home. No, we didn't eat Pratha every morning. I’m talking about our relationship with the Quran.

My siblings and I learned to read the Quran in our early childhood, memorizing large portions, enabling us to recite at extremely high speeds – all the while never understanding a word. I was taught of the immense rewards for reciting the Quran and so I dutifully complied, reading as much as possible in an attempt to accumulate good deeds.

Later, when I went away to college, rationality found its way into my religion. I figured it made no sense that I was reading something I didn’t understand. I felt strongly, as many college students do when it comes to their under-developed thoughts, that reciting the Quran without understanding was a completely worthless endeavor.

And as many immature individuals are wont to do, I began to look down on those who differed from my newfound approach. I would pity the Bangladeshi man whizzing through his Quran recitation or arrogantly correct my aged Aunt who would dash through her litany of nightly dhikr.

I figured the only way to benefit from any act of worship is by *intellectually* internalizing it and this required a competent level of understanding what was being recited and contemplating over it.

I extended this line of thought to my dhikr. In my childhood I would witness my elder relatives whirring through their post-prayer dhikr (Subhan’Allah 33x, Alhamdul’Ilah 33x, and AllahuAkbar 34x) and naturally I adopted their methodology. However, in my college years, I felt dhikr performed at the speed of light was fruitless and instead opted for a more sedate approach, choosing to recite less and ponder more.

So while I used to rush to finish reciting the Quran during the 30 days of Ramadan, I chose instead to read less with an emphasis on studying the translation. Similarly, I stopped sprinting through my dhikr and lessened the load, reciting each term 5 or 6 times, focusing on the meaning rather than reciting it exactly 33 times.

I convinced myself that intellectual comprehension was the key to spiritual bliss.

After all, that is the only way to internalize worship, no? Through understanding, contemplation, and deep reflection, right?

Ahh, the rotten fruits of modern secular thought.

Thankfully, I've been blessed to be in the company of people who have freed themselves from these chains of backwards thinking.

I’ve learned that great spiritual blessings (barakah) are found in reciting the Quran and doing dhikr, regardless of the intellect's ability to process the content. As long as the heart and soul are focused on Allah (swt), the blessings of partaking in these blessed acts are beyond our measly rationale.

I now understand how special Godly individuals are able to recite the entire Quran in one week or three days or even one day. I understand how some select few are able to recite the Tahlil (La-Illaha-il-Allah) thousands of times each day.

For the heart moves at a pace which the brain can simply not maintain.

Blessings are not derived purely from understanding. The Prophet (saw) even said so.

When he taught us that reciting each letter of the Quran will bring about 10 blessings, the examples he gave – the beginning letters of Sura Baqarah (Alif, Lam, Mim) – are universally accepted as being beyond the understanding of man.

So according to our beloved Master, blessings reside in the recitation of something we will *never* understand.

Now, does this mean that we needn't ponder and reflect on what is being recited? Of course not.

I am simply stating that we mustn't belittle those speeding along the fast lane of the spiritual highway, without a care for their intellectually mandated speed limits.

Well, it's actually four, if you wanna include mine here. Cuz after all, it really is *my* post that is highlighting the beauty of these other three, so mine is actually the most beautiful of all, no?

Moving on...

1. Tim points out the frustrations of "the perpetual oscillation between right and wrong curtailing my spiritual growth".

Such ingratitude we display in our regular commission of sins and the even greater ingratitude we perpetrate by sinning after having begged Allah for His forgiveness!

As I commented on his blog, how I wish that I could live out all my hedonistic tendencies and carry out all my sins and then once and for all, return to my Lord with the utmost sincerity, instead of playing this back-and-forth game of sinning and repenting.

But then I'm reminded of the numerous ahadith detailing how Allah (swt) loves to forgive his repentant servants - one hadith going so far as to state that if mankind were to cease sinning, Allah (swt) would destroy them and bring back another people who would sin and seek His forgiveness.

So I'm in the clear, right?

Not really, I say to my silly self. All those teachings on repentance and Allah's forgiveness are geared to those who make sincere taubah (repentance), not the wishy-washy version that I put forth every other day, which finds me scheming my next sin before my crocodile tears have even dried.

That's why I wish I could simply accrue my mountain of sins and then turn to Allah with an unbreakable promise to never return to that wretched lifestyle ever again.

2. al-Kakazai writes about frivolous talk at the Dar-al-Hadith blog.

How often do we find ourselves in a sitting, discussing matters that are of absolutely no benefit? Dare I say too often?

I have partaken in numerous such occasions and I must confess that I get up from such gatherings feeling spiritually exhausted and weakened. Nary a mention of Allah (swt) or His bountiful blessings. How odd!

Socialization for the pure sake of entertainment is a very strange phenomenon.
So is conversation for the pure sake of passing time.

3. Baraka reminds me of the countless prayers that I've pleaded to my Lord, so many of which He has eventually answered, and I, in turn, have so callously forgotten to acknowledge these divine favors.

"We ask and we ask and we ask of God, and then forget that we did so, or forget to even thank Him when our prayers are answered."