A Mercy Case

This is a note for myself, part of the archive of my subjectivity that I can look back at in future years to remember moments of clarity (or lack thereof).

Shahr Ramadan is coming to an end.

I think I maxxed out yesterday, after day in day out consistent struggle to grasp the sacred moments.

And this morning I finally talked to God about my “career.”

I put career in quotes because it is not like others.

Because al-Razzāq has blessed me to not have to worry about income – like aṭ-Ṭabarī from whom I have benefitted a lot even though he died over 1000 years ago – I have not followed a traditional path to a stable career, whether academic or masjid-related. My adult life has been a constant toggle between the academy and the masjid, and it still is.

And that is not easy. People want to known “what” I am and “what” I do – it is a central part of American culture. Talking heads on TV have something beneath their name to indicate it. I was watching a documentary the other day and beneath the guy’s name it said “Editor.” I chuckled to myself – surely as a multi-faceted human being he was so much more than just an editor. But c’est la vie. I was once “Chaplain” but now no more. I was once “Ustadh” to some, but that is gone too. And now I am not quite “Professor,” so it seems the marketplace of consumers for my products has settled on “Dr. David” for the time being.

And recently that tension has really gotten to me, in unexpected ways. My friends Zareena and Trent helped me to think through it before Shahr Ramadan, as well as my wife. But surprisingly when the month hit, it disappeared almost completely right away. Which to me is a sign that Shayṭān was attacking me on this precise point.

But this morning I finally talked to God about it, and it was 100% clear.

I am after the secret of sincerity within, in both my teaching and writing.

As the ḥadīth in Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim states:

Then a man will be brought forward who learned Sacred Knowledge, taught it to others, and who recited the Qur’an. Allah will remind him of His gifts to him and the man will acknowledge them, and then Allah will say, “What have you done with them?” The man will answer, “I acquired Sacred Knowledge, taught it, and recited the Qur’an, for Your sake.” Allah will say, “You lie. You learned so as to be called a scholar, and read the Qur’an so as to be called a reciter, and it has already been said.” Then the man will be sentenced and dragged away on his face to be flung into the fire.

Even if everything I have ever taught or preached or wrote about is 100% doctrinally correct, that is still not a guarantee that those efforts will bring me happiness after my death. There is something deeper, more personal, that one must grapple with. It is seeking sincerity.

I don’t know the answer, but when I spoke to God I acknowledged that a dars taught to a small group in an unknown masjid can potentially be more pleasing to Allah than a popular undergraduate course at a famous university. And a blog post can potentially be more pleasing to Allah than a book published by a top academic publisher. Surely, if academic fame is a guide to where Allah’s riḍwān lies, then Max Weber and Charles Darwin are awliyāʾ Allāh!

These are the thoughts that I think, and the feelings that I feel. I don’t know to what extent others have them, but I am not others. I am me. And they emerge in my du’as as a product of my subjective struggle to experience the realities of my faith.

The Qur’an speaks evocatively about coming to know with precise clarity in the world beyond this one:

“Now We have lifted this veil of yours, so Today your sight is sharp!” [50.22]

“Again, you will surely see it with the eye of certainty.” [102.7]

“Are these people waiting for God to come to them in the shadows of the clouds, together with the angels? But the matter would already have been decided by then: all matters are brought back to God” [2.210]

One Day it will all make sense.

But until that Day arrives to impinge its realities upon my consciousness awareness, I must wait while my first academic book is going through peer-review with Routledge.

yā Allāh, if in Your infinite knowledge, publishing this text with Routledge brings Your Eternal Mercy ever closer to my limited being, then make it successful!

and if in Your infinite knowledge, publishing this effort with someone else will bring Your Eternal Mercy, then make it so!

I have tied my camel, tried my best to trust in You, and know that You are sufficient for me and the best arranger of all my affairs!

Thank you for sending me friends like Zareena and Trent, and for sending me a thoughtful wife like Sumaiya, and help me do that which is most beneficial for humanity, and that which pleases You the most!

You created me, sustained me, and have always been with me on this wonderful journey of existence!

One day I will return to You, and this world will be nothing more than a passing shadow of morning.

So on these final days of the month of Ramadan, I thank You for all that You have given me, and ask You by Your Mercy to accept the good that I have done, to forgive the wrong that I have done, to correct me when I err, and to guide me when I misstep.

There is no god but You, transcendent are You above this Earth, surely I am from those who have committed dhulm!

And please bless Muhammad and the family of Muhammad, and do with me as You have every right to do.

Hanging with Sayyid Kashmiri while trying to get a secular book deal at the AAR