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Tag: Makkah

  • The Land of the House of Allah, Where Fragrance Is Felt

    The Land of the House of Allah, Where Fragrance Is Felt

    It is said you can never know what it feels like until you experience it for yourself. No number of words nor detailed descriptions can adequately portray the encounter. Likewise, no pictures, as professional and emotionally moving as they may be, can do justice to the actual human spectacle and religious landscape as witnessed by the eye. Nothing captures the literal likeness of what your senses feel, and it is said that the feeling is like no other. Every culture and era has written poignant poetry and transcribed hymns down generations, attempting to visualize a snapshot of what it is to visit this land.

    Could it be anything other than this? For this land is most beloved to Him, Azza wa Jal (Mighty and Majestic) whom we love more than any other — it holds Baytu Allah, the House of Allah, for whom we would lay down our lives. Rasool Allah (sallallahu ‘alayhi wa sallam), the man whom we love more than ourselves and everything we hold dear, shed blessed tears of longing for the land when he looked towards it, even after having been persecuted there.

    There is no city dearer to Allah and to Rasool Allah than this city. How could it be anything less than magnificent to us, His servants? The splendid sacredness of the land of the House of Allah transcends our earthly attempts at praise and honor.

    It is so blessed, that the fragrance can be felt even from afar, yes felt, not just smelled. And all the senses weave together and heighten one another here, so your heart may skip a beat or your eye may shed a tear, just from a trace of the aroma. The mesmerizing chant of the adhan (call to prayer) reverberates through hills and mountains, through the bustling markets and grand hotel lobbies, and through the chambers of your heart and soul. You don’t just hear it; you feel its profound meaning, and you are motivated to establish salah and hurry to do so. You long to hear it between salah times, and that longing begins to ache when you leave the land. You then realize that this is the essence of prayer: This is actually how salah is to be established and treated. It should make us ponder deeply — do our rushed few minutes spent on salah, in between stressful meetings, performed while we’re out of breath because the time is almost gone, with our buzzing cell phones in our pockets, do justice to this most essential form of worship in the lives of Muslims? Does it have the effect it should on us and our lives when performed in that way?  And yet, the Prophet told us, “The first action for which a servant of Allah will be held accountable on the Day of Resurrection will be his prayers…” (al-Tirmidhi).

    The city is so honorable that even glorifying it becomes an act of worship. The honor one gives it, and the sincerity in performing the rites and rituals within it, are tied to the level of piety in one’s heart. Could anything else explain how and why there is a consistent circling around the magnificent cube, the House of Allah, as if it were the heartbeat of the ummah, past, present and future. In the constant bustling Tawaf, the encircling round and round, how is it that one feels utter peace, and even with multitudes of other souls circling around with you, you feel completely alone with Him. It is as if you are the only one there. Why else would so many, more than two million souls last year, travel from across all the corners of the earth, leaving behind their lives, work, and families, some with great financial or health difficulty, to perform religious rituals and be a guest in His House? The pull to travel to this land and perform the rituals — the desire of each and every Muslim to do so— has not diminished in 1400-plus years and never will.

    It is miraculous that nothing in the past one and half millennia lessened this great, burning desire of every single Muslim from every corner of every continent to glorify this city. He SWT has made glorifying this city one of the most honorable acts of worship, one by which a person draws close to Him. He says: “…And whoever honors the symbols  of Allah — indeed, it is from the piety of hearts” (Qur’an 22:32).

    There exists a piece of heaven in this land, an actual piece of the place we all dream about. The Black Stone is from that place we all aspire to ultimately attain through worship, goodness, and du’a.  “A piece of heaven” is an endearing term used to evoke feelings of one’s intense love for a place, time, or object. This literally has it, the Black Stone given to Prophet Ibrahim, alaihi salam, from Jannah (Paradise).  There is a rush to be in its presence more than any other spot in this Masjid al-Haram. The circumambulating intensifies at the corner where The Black Stone is set in the Ka’aba. There the prayers heighten in yearning.

    Makkah, this land of the House of Allah, is the birthplace of the most beloved man throughout all history, the most revered and the most followed, the most studied and the one for whom we all, every one of the 1.8 billion of us, make durood (salutations) multiple times a day, every day. The one to whom we send peace and blessings upon every single time we hear his name. This city is the place where “the world’s most influential person” was raised. It neighbors the other beloved city, Madinah, the one which accepted our beloved in its comforting borders when he was emigrating there, away from persecution in Makkah. He came to love the city so much that whenever he approached it he would spur his horse to a gallop because of his love for the city (Bukhari). It holds the most revered spot after the Ka’aba: our beloved’s home and final resting place. These two cities, Makkah and Madinah, are so hallowed as they are the places where the Qur’an was revealed, a holy Book that is the most widely read, memorized, and studied book in the world.

    Pivotal milestones — great numbers of individuals accepting Islam, battles, treaties, and final triumph — took place and taught us invaluable lessons in the two cities that shaped what Islam has become today. This is a land of hallowed grounds such as Mount Uhud, described by the Prophet as “… a mountain which loves us and which we love, it is upon the Gate of Heaven”  (Bukhari).

    It is said when you arrive in the land of these two cities, you are transported in time and space to another spiritual realm.  A transforming of your mindset occurs as it feels drawn to a higher power and feels the soul gravitating to its natural state. You find your life, and everything within it, playing like a film in your mind, the good and the bad, until you find meaning and purpose in it all. You depart this place of transformation secured to a new focal point, feeling spiritually charged. It is said when you leave this land, you leave a piece of your heart behind, each time, no matter how many times you may come. You receive what you didn’t even know you needed. You are comforted, connected to the realm of goodness, and uplifted. This is the land where you come because you love it and all that it signifies, only to realize you were invited here because you are, in fact, the one loved. Indeed, this is a place with a divine aura, so full yet so silent at the same time, where you can fully communicate with others without speaking a word of their languages. This land is blanketed in an indescribable peace.  All this being said and much, much more…and you can only comprehend fully when you go.

  • Eid al-Adha: A Reminder About Sacrifice, Both Great and Small

    Eid al-Adha: A Reminder About Sacrifice, Both Great and Small

    Eid al-Adha, Feast of the Sacrifice, marks the end of Hajj and commemorates Prophet Ibrahim’s willingness to sacrifice his son, Ismail, in complete obedience to the command of Allah SWT. When he proceeded to sacrifice his son, Allah SWT substituted a lamb and Ibrahim passed what was a “clear test” (see Qur’an 37:106) from his Lord. Each Eid al-Adha we are reminded of the significance of sacrifice in our lives. We think about the ritual slaughter of animals on the Eid and the distribution of meat to the needy. Allah tells us with regard to animals slaughtered in His name, “Neither their meat nor blood reaches Allah. Rather, it is your piety that reaches Him. This is how He has subjected them to you so that you may proclaim the greatness of Allah for what He has guided you to; and give good news to the doers of good” (Qur’an 22:37). The ultimate sacrifice is the sacrifice of one’s life for the sake of Allah SWT, the willingness to be a martyr for Him and His cause. We can, however, take time after the festivities of Eid al-Adha to reflect on smaller sacrifices that we can make in our lives. Here is one that may not readily come to mind: the willingness to withdraw from the noise and distractions of our lives, including the inclination to talk excessively. How is that a sacrifice?

    With social media, many people, especially the young, feel the need to check their phones every five minutes. This is a compulsion to know what’s happening, what the news is, what people are saying on Twitter, how many “likes” your post got in the last five minutes, what the newest grievance is or who is being de-platformed or cancelled. Being out of the “loop” is agonizing. Feeling that one is in the know and on top of things becomes an addiction. But all that virtual activity is not really real. It is not personal or physical reality. It’s the virtual “online” world.” More and more, people are living online rather than in the physical world.

    In a survey of 2,000 individuals, 13 to 38 years old, 86 percent reported that they would like to be a social media “influencer,” getting paid to post sponsored content — 86 percent! One might think that a society flourishes if its up-and-coming citizens aspire to be an engineer or physicist or neurosurgeon or librarian or software engineer or nurse or physical therapist or astronomer…on and on. But no — the young people want to be influencers. Basically, they want to get paid to talk, to talk and promote brands. In such a culture, call it an influencer culture, talking is valuable, even profitable. How then does a young person fit in to that culture when they want, instead, to focus on Islamic imperatives of developing character and striving to do good — especially if they encounter the idea that practicing silence lends itself to that developing and that striving. In a “culture of talk,” silence would be avoided like a plague.

    Sacrifice: Giving Something Up for the Sake of Something Else

    To sacrifice something is to give it up, even if it causes a seeming disadvantage or discomfort, for the sake of something else. The culture of talk, the influencer culture, is all about personality, about being able to come across as authentic and charismatic, to weave a personal narrative into the promotion of merchandise, branding, and consumerism. Imagine a young person surrounded by this materialistic messaging inclining instead to ideas like building character, increasing self-awareness, purifying the self.

    Personality, charisma, selling the self — versus — building character, increasing self-awareness, purifying the self. Interestingly, the latter inclination to character, awareness, and purification is Islamically connected to the practice of silence. Being silent, the opposite of talkativeness!

    For the youth, growing up in a “talk” culture, practicing silence is truly a sacrifice. First of all, for many, practicing silence is very difficult. Many people, not just the youth of today, find that they have to fill their every waking moment with distraction. In fact, we live in a boisterous world, full of chatter, small talk, gossip, discussion, debate, and noisy entertainment. It’s not easy to sit in silence or remain unspeaking for long. What is it about silence that feels threatening?

    It is in the silence that the agitations in our own hearts become audible and demand attention. Whatever pain, anger, resentment, fear, self-pity, guilt, and so on — all rise to the surface of our consciousness in the silence. In fact, we are meant to face these feelings, process them, and put them in a healthy perspective. Isn’t an honest assessment of self at the root of building character; of gaining greater self-awareness; of purifying the soul?

    And it is in practicing silence, where assessment of self takes place, that vast realms of wisdom are found. Waheeb ibn Al-Ward said, “We were told that wisdom has ten parts and nine of them are in silence” (“Ihya Ulum al-Deen,” Al-Ghazali). Why is that? The dictionary tells us that wisdom is “having the power of discerning and judging properly as to what is true or right; possessing discernment, judgment, or discretion.” Wisdom is making the best use of knowledge, understanding, and experience so as to discern what is true or right or proper. What impedes making the best use of knowledge, understanding, and experience? — self-delusion, untamed desires, pride, impatience, ego narratives of superiority or inferiority, tendency to blame others for one’s problems…all of these impediments to wisdom are addressed by building character, increasing self-awareness, and purifying the soul. And to do so requires a willingness to enter the silence. To practice silence is to enter a world of quiet, reflection, and self-discovery.

    Silence is Wisdom…and So Much More

    If silence is wisdom, how easy it would be for us to acquire it! All we have to do is practice silence. Do you doubt that something that appears so easy to do (until one tries it!) would yield us the time-honored treasures of character that so many have sought with fervor and devotion? Can you be persuaded that practicing silence would furnish the soul with wisdom, allowing one to discern what is true and right; to become whole and pure; to engage in the richest form of worship; to inculcate in one’s own self the attributes of marooah (an Arabic word which connotes intelligence, power, bravery, generosity and honor) — these embellishments of the soul are ours if only we practice silence. Here is the evidence:

    The Prophet (s) said, “Indeed silence is wisdom but very few practice it” (Al-Bayhaqi and Ibn Hibban). 

    The Prophet (s) said, “Whoever is pleased to be whole and pure, let him practice silence” (Ibn Abi Al-Dunya and Al-Bayhaqi). 

    The Prophet (s) said, “Shall I tell you the easiest and richest form of worship and the most comfortable for the body? They answered, ‘yes O messenger of Allah.’ And he said, ‘silence and good character’ ” (Abi Dharr in Tabaqat Al-Muhaddetheen).
    Jaber ibn Sumarah, as reported in Ahmad and Al-Tabarani, said, “I used to accompany the Prophet and he was silent most of the time.”

    It is reported that the Prophet’s companion, Anas (r) said, “Part and parcel of marooah is for a brother to listen silently to his brother when they speak” (Al-Tareekh by Al-Khateeb). 

    We should not allow all the noise and distraction of the world and the noise inside our minds to foreclose our inclination to practice silence, to contemplate. We should not allow the noise and constant distraction and our own compulsive talking to limit the moments that our speaking might be remembrance of Allah and the principles of goodness. We should not allow the noise to distract us from the lessons of the straight path whose insights yield understanding about ourselves and the world.

    The Prophet (s) said: “…that my silence shall be contemplation, that my speaking shall be remembrance, that my seeing shall be lessons” (Ruzain in the book “Wasayeh al-Rasul”).

    Eid al-Adha can remind us about sacrifice, both great and small. Let us sacrifice some of our frenetic time and inclination to talk and distract ourselves…to practice silence.