A Mercy Case

Tonight is the 27th of Rajab. It is considered a holy night for a number of different reasons, all of them centered around the spirituality of the Prophet Muhammad, may Allah bless him and his family and grant them peace.

It is cause for me to reflect on why I try to align myself with the historical mission of the Prophet Muhammad. What does it mean for me to be a Muslim, to declare that “Muhammad is the Messenger of God (محمد رسول الله)”? On this night, and tomorrow in the day, what will I do because of this belief? In 21st century America, in the midst of a global pandemic, why is this important?

I have never met the Prophet Muhammad, may Allah bless him and his family and grant them peace. As much as I have prayed for it, I have never seen him in my dreams, to answer my questions or give me specific directives for my life. But he is at the center of my life regardless. Is it not strange that someone whose face I have never seen has so much influence over me?

Growing up Christian, it was normal to imagine what Jesus, upon him peace, looked like. When I look at this picture, I am 100% certain that I am looking at Jesus:

Sure, I get it that he was Jewish and that this picture is perhaps too light skinned, but I still know that I am looking at Jesus. No doubt. But show me any reverential painting or Persian miniature or caricature of the Prophet Muhammad, and I will not accept that it is him. It is just an image that exists in someone’s imagination. The only thing that is acceptable to me is his actual face. I trust I will know it when I see it. I really do not like listening to hadith descriptions of him, because it reminds me that I have never seen him. It is a literature of absence.

And yet, this man has more say over my life than anyone.

I never get to sleep in, ever, because he said to wake up at a certain time to pray.

I never get to drink Jack Daniels, ever, because he said to stop doing that.

I don’t get to just do what I want – I have to do what he has told me to do.

Before I was confined to my house by the orders of the governor, my egotistical self was confined by prophetic orders.

He wants me to honor the old people in my life, and be merciful to the youngsters. He told me to give my money away for the sake of others who need it more. He expects a lot, and sometimes it is really hard.

In short, he is like a father to me.

He is larger than life, and better than I can ever be.

He has made such a difference in so many people’s lives, so I sometimes wonder what I mean to him and where I fit in his life.

And for the last 20 years, I have tried as best I can to make him proud of me.

And so on this night I want to say to him that I hope you are proud of me, yā Rasūl Allāh.

I know that I have screwed up a lot, and that I am not as strong as I should be, but I am trying.

And tomorrow I will keep on trying.

I will wake up early to pray just like you want me to.

I will try to put others before myself as you have taught me.

I will remember that Allah has everything in control, just as Allah did at Khandaq when you were surrounded.

And I will carry on.

For every 27th of Rajab to come, I will carry your flag as best I can.

So when I can no longer walk with these legs

and my arms cannot carry your flag anymore

at the moment my days come to an end

please be there to carry me home

no matter how well I performed in comparison to others who love you too

for you will always be like a father to me

and I will always seek the safety of your embrace