A Mercy Case

In a previous post, I wrote about a friend I lost a number of years ago. This past Ramadan, I wrote him a letter:

Bismillah al-Rahman al-Raheem

ya Seth

al-salam ‘alaykum wa rahma Allah!

I hope Allah grants permission for you to hear and/or see this in the barzakh. It has been almost 8 years since you died, and 7 since I wrote [the] tribute to our friendship. It is strange how often you come to mind. What is it like where you are now? I ask the One whom I ask for everything to make it a garden from the gardens of Paradise. I ask the One to make it filled with beauty beyond description and pleasure beyond comprehension.

Fayd Kashani said something remarkable. He said that the pleasure of knowing the One contains every pleasure in existence, for every pleasure in existence emanates from the One. So I ask the One to give you that.

Sometimes it feels like so much of what I do is in order to figure out the answers to the questions that you raised. Not just because you are smart, masha’Allah, but because you burned with a passion to know, just like me. A passion that meant crossing lines that people like you and I don’t normally cross. I saw the documentary about Arba’een where you wanted to do ziyara, but couldn’t because of the security situation. I hope to make ziyara whenever the One opens the doors of facilitation, and I pray that you will be with me, somehow, someway. One of my teachers, Umar Abd-Allah, said while we were doing ziyara in Syria that the souls of the righteous are freed at death, and Sayyid Sabiq discusses some of the abilities of the souls to travel in the earth. I pray that the One grants you the ability to be with me in Najaf when, if God wills, I make it there.

There are so many in this world that think what I am writing right now is just a projection of my subjectivity. Maybe even our own parents think that, may Allah bless them forever. But I believe that we were friends for a purpose, in the wisdom of the Decree of the One. And so these words are not just empty musings emerging from my particular collection of neurons. No – I believe that you still live, even though we can’t speak directly. And I pray that we will see each other again, and visit Imam Husayn together, and with him go visit his grandfather – may blessings and peace be upon him and his family – by the Love and Mercy of the One who brought us together in this life.

How may books we read and discussed! I read somewhere recently that you were studying some medieval Isma’ili texts towards the end of your life. Only the One knows what you were up to, but what I knew of you is what I know of myself – the irresistible urge to pass beyond the confines of human history and its collected artifacts of manuscripts and ruins, to arrive into the company of the eternal souls of the saints, the fellowship of the angels, and ultimately to approach the Divine. To drink from whatever we can fathom of “qaba qawsayn” for eternity.

What is this life but this letter? This letter of faith – words typed on a screen like a billion other screens in this world, but meant to travel beyond what I can see to a world that is “khayr wa abqa.” This letter from one white kid to another, who decided to risk everything for the sake of the One who gave us everything. This letter that I am writing in my life after your death. This letter that represents what I actually care about. This letter that I am writing when I could be doing a million other things. A million other things that matter less than this letter for this faqir. This letter that I am writing, in part, because I want millions to pray for you.

Sometimes I am so sick of this world. Sometimes all I can see is oppression and selfishness and the nihilistic pursuit of entertainment. Even studying feels like that much of the time – the joy of the text, and the thrill of discovery and the power of feeling like you are the one who really knows. I seek refuge in the One from all of that! Even religious gatherings sometimes feel like that, especially when those gathered think they are the elite (khass) who are beyond reproach and beyond questioning. How many times we got in trouble for asking hard questions! But if the Truth is the Truth, then it can handle a couple hard questions! One thing you taught me better than anyone is to not stop. You never stopped. If the Truth is the Truth, it will last. So even when we disagreed, we were united by la ilaha ill Allah Muhammad rasul Allah.

I seek refuge in the One who caused you to die and caused me to live. Because you are gone, I can never forget that I am one step away from death. Because of you, I always know that books are not enough – it is the journey of the soul that matters most. There is no reading that you can do that can help you now, but if I and anyone who reads this recites al-Fatiha for you, then that – that is something real! That is something beautiful! To know that a sincere heart, somewhere out in the world, can say words for you that go beyond time and space and receive acceptance in the realm of pure Being, an acceptance which increases you in Mercy wherever you are. Allah! And again, Allah! Allah Allah Allah! Forever and ever, Allah!

“wa ma sahibukum bi majnun” I know that some thought you were a little crazy. You were so much like me – crazy for answers, crazy for knowledge, crazy for the Source. And that is why I cried so hard when I learned of your death. And that is why when I pray for you, like I am doing now, it is from the deepest place within me. The place that wishes it could reach out and tear away the veil of this world, and make the unseen seen. The place that wishes it could reach pure Objectivity, so that we are not lost in this world of rival claims to represent the unseen.

I have been writing this letter for almost two hours. I have poured my soul into it. I have done so because I wish we could talk. There is so much to talk about. It is Ramadan now, as I assume you know, and maybe that is why I am feeling it so deeply. This Month of Mercy always puts me in touch with death in the most palpable ways, which is a particular type of mercy. I imagine Ramadan has its own mercies in the barzakh, so may you experience all of the mercies that are given to every Prophet of God, from Adam to Muhammad, upon them all peace. That seems like a presumptuous prayer, but it is the one that the All-Knowing inspired in my heart to make for you. Maybe, if the One grants you permission, visit me in my dreams. It would be great to see you again, and know that you are doing well. Maybe you have some advice for me as to how best to prepare for my inevitable journey to where you are already are.

with love, from your brother in the fellowship of following Muhammad,

David

Seth’s grave