For those of us who reflect on this miraculous world in which we exist, for those of us who are aware of how much of a blessing it is for our complex bodies to work as reliably as they do, for those of us who see the destructive powers possessed by nature yet acknowledge that we are protected from them, for those of us who realize we can only create with materials/objects what God has already created, and for those of us who not only believe in a Creator but also seek refuge in him and remember him frequently; we are the ones that should know that prayer is the strongest weapon we have in this world.  I wanted to remind those of us who strive to be conscious of God about the importance of our du’as or supplications and of how God handles these supplications.

Excerpt from al Adab al Mufrad compiled by Muhammad ibn Ismail al Bukhari

The Rewards and blessings for those who make du’a (supplication/prayer):

Abu Sa’id al Khudari reported that the Prophet of Allah, upon him be peace, said, ” Any Muslim who makes du’a for that which is not sinful and does not involve the severing of family ties will recieve one of the following: either his/her prayer will be answered quickly, it will be saved for the next world, or it will ward of an equivalent amount of evil.” Sa’id said, ” Then we will make much du’a .” The Prophet replied, “Allah will do more!”

The Virtue of Du’a:

Abu Huraira reported that the Prophet of Allah, upon him be peace, said. “Nothing is dearer to Allah than du’a”

Nu’man ibn Bashir reported that the Prophet of Allah, upon him be peace, said, “Verily du’a is worship.” Thereafter the Prophet recited from the Holy Qur’an “Call me, and I will answer you” (40:60)

“Du’a is a weapon of the believer,  a pillar of Islam, and the light of the heavens and the earth” (Mustadrak)My Reflection:

I think as humans we are all apt to become heedless, I catch myself all too often.  Lately, I have been strongly upholding the importact acot of worship known as du’a or making a supplication/prayer to the Lord of the worlds.   There are people who believe in God and people who don’t and when I talk to people in my life about things that have recently occured and that I have prayed for, some say ”What a coincidence” and others say “SubhanAllah-Glory be to Allah.”   I hope none of us ever deny any of the favors our Lord bestows upon us, because there is nothing more insulting and disrespectful than ingratitude. May Allah make us those of whom turn to him in times of hardship and remember him in times of ease. Ameen…

I want to share an experience I recently underwent that really helped solidify a preexisting stance that I had on an approaching dawah or calling to the way of God.  I have a cat and she is sweet and playful.  I love to chase her around my house trying to catch her as she craftily works her way over to her favorite petting spot in our home.  Every know and then I am able to trick her and put an obstacle in her typical escape route.  She runs because she feels like she is on the defensive.  She isn’t sure what to expect from me and attempts to get to a place where she feels comfortable and secure.   When she hits this unexpected roadblock in her escape route she quickly does a 180 degree turn and looks me stern in the eye.   As I get closer, this wonderful cat changes it’s personality by hissing and raising its claws in ultimate defense mode.  I suppose this is where the saying of “cornered like a cat” comes from.  Something beautiful and enjoyable can easily turn into something mean and irrational when placed in a situation of feeling “cornered.”

The same is true for humans.  I was on Devon wearing a shirt that said “sabr” (patience) in Arabic script.  As I was walking to my destination a woman passed me and said “Excuse me sir, Excuse me sir, I read your shirt and it says “sabr”.  Can you please explain to me what this “sabr” means.”  I asked her, “You can read arabic but you don’t know what this common term means?”  How obvious can you be that you are trying to play someone? It instantly registered with me that she was an Arab Christian who then attempted to proselytize me.  In my opinion, her points were ridiculous and actually entertained me.  My purpose for writing this is not to highlight her flaws in thinking, but rather something more important.  Although her thinking was flawed, her methodology was more flowed and was actually offensive.  Here I am, on DEVON, Pakistani part of devon on my way to an EXTREMELY important meeting and some woman decides she has the right to not only interrupt my day’s business but also offend me.

Her methodology was this:

1. To assess my level of knowledge/intellect.  How did she do this? She asked me to define terminology in an attempt to see if I would trip myself up.  What terminology you might ask? Allah, who is Allah? Sabr, what is sabr? You follow Muhammad, don’t you know what kind of man he was?  She was trying to find out if I was knowledgeable or if I was susceptible to her weak arguments. 

2. To affirm that her perspectieve was superior to mine by demeaning mine.  This was done by her talking AT me rather than WITH me.  She said things like  ”Where do you get your sabr/patience? Surely Jesus the lord must have given you patience and he gives all to everything.”

3. To pass out literature to convince me of what her words could not.  She said “I hope by the lord Jesus Christ that you will read this pamphlet.”  I said, “I would love to read this booklet, thank you very much!  I hope that you too will show respect towards me and pick up the Qur’an to read.”  She said, “I have already done that!”  I replied “And I have read several pamphlets by evangelists as well as the bible and many other books of Christian theology, but it is of my ettiquettes to respect you, your papers, and your faith and I will unquestionably read your pamphlet regardless of whether or not I already know the information.”  At that I said, “May God protect you” and walked away. 

4. When all else failed, to insult my beliefs.  As I walked away she repeated “Your prophet married a 9 year old and is a dirty pedophile!”  (For the record, I set her straight about this earlier in our discussion when I told her that her Christian Arab ancestors did the same thing and of all the accusations the people at the time of the Prophet made against him, not one accused him of pedophilia.  As a matter of fact, as of 100 years ago the minimum age for marriage in the US was 10 years old in several states!  Christians, Jews, and polytheists all supported the idea that it was ok to marry a girl who has reached puberty and at that time in that part of the world that was the typical age of puberty for women. Let us not hold our modern standards to earlier ages.)   I smiled and continued to walk away saying one last time “May God protect you.”

Her methodology resulted in me wanting to pull out my claws and hiss just like my cat!  I held back; however, she further reinforced my hesitancy to discuss matters of religion with “message delivering” Christians closing yet another door for Christians to attempt to make me accept Jesus peace be upon him as divine.  I do not waste my time talking to people of this methodology for they are extremists in their religion and intolerant of differing beliefs.  By the way, it has been told to me that there are a group of Christians that go to Devon a few times per week (Sam Shamoun’s peoples) and adopt a similar methodology to this woman in order to harass and terrorize Muslims.  They think they are saving our souls but are merely giving us headaches…

Well let me tell you what. For all you evangelists out there, you should already be aware of the fact that your actions bring people FURTHER away from your cause.  When you do not have proper etiquettes in this secular society you actually offend people and force them to create shields  not only towards you, but also towards all who are similar to you.  Poorly inviting people to share your beliefs hinders your effectiveness. This is a fact that cannot be denied …

Now to the reason why I shared this story.  Muslim’s also be aware of how you do dawah or invite people to Islam, because you too can become an “evangelist” or proselytizer.  Many of us unintentionally come across to non-Muslims in the same manner that the woman described above came across to me.  We should not forget the ayaat in Qur’an specifically referring to the proper guidelines of dawah. 

“Invite (all) to the Way of thy Lord with wisdom and beautiful preaching; and argue with them in ways that are best and most gracious.”   

Noble Qur’an 16:125

Now, I do not mean to be inflammatory but merely realistic.  If we go out in groups, pass out literature to people, and are confrontational then are we living the verse of the Qur’an listed above? In my opinion, no!  We must understand that this in your opinion might be dawah, but in all reality it is counterproductive to our cause.  I understand that people come to Islam through this avenue or at least it appears as if they do.  I hear stories of people who go out and get several shahadahs in a day.  As a convert, I simply do not come across any other converts in our community who came to Islam this way.  Perhaps they recited shahadah, but then where have they gone?  The practicing converts I personally know almost all have the same story.  They were not compelled by words of others to accept Islam, but rather the truth of their words via validation through their actions.  This leads me to another ayaat:

“Let there arise out of you a band of people inviting to all that is good, enjoining what is right, and forbidding what is wrong: They are the ones to attain felicity (bliss)” 

Noble Qur’an 3:104

In this ayaat the concept of our actions speaking louder than our words is reinforced.  Why has Islam become so vilified in the West? Because of ACTIONS not by words or by pamphlets.  I personally believe it is a disservice to Allah Azza wa Jaal  to say that going out in public and passing out literature is dawah.  For, dawah must be done through wisdom and beautiful preaching.  Through my experiences I have concluded that the most effective invitation to Islam is through our good conduct and impeccable characters. After all, is this not how Prophet Muhammad salAllahu alayhi wasalaambrought others to Islam.  If he had not been the amazing person that he was and his conduct as stellar as it was, would God have chosen him to be his Mercy to mankind?  So we should follow this in our approach to introducing Islam to others.  Be cautious that you do not fall into the pit of proselytization use this impedes our ability to spread the truth about what Islam is.  Let us not turn others away or offend people by being rudely argumentative and disrespectful to their beliefs.  Instead of doing street dawah you may be more effective by joining a charitable organization as a volunteer and using your character to validate your beliefs to the people you work with and the people you encounter through your charitable efforts.  If you engage society or your community with the beautiful embodiment of  Islam as your character, the community has NO evidence to indicate that Islam is not beautiful!

So, proselytizers of all faiths! Do not think that passing out paper ir standing on the corner with a megaphone is truly propagating the Message of God. If you want to convince me that Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Athiesm, or any other ism is the true way to worship God then your actions better speak louder than your words!

End of story…

May God protect us all!

For those of you familiar with America’s Bad Boy, Loon, he now goes by the name Amir Junaid Muhadith.  He accepted Islam and left his life of ignorance and hedonism.  Check out this 30 minute interview he touches on the effectiveness of true dawah which is through the actions of people not just through words.  Dawah should be a pleasant experience for the receiver or else their displeasure will be manifested throuigh their rejection of your invitation. Enjoy…

Ibn Yahya

theoryofheart.wordpress.com

disclaimer- this is merely my opinon, I would love to hear other opinions!

The conversation occurs on an average of twice a week with well-meaning individuals.  It begins with me meeting a wonderful and considerate brother or sister who asks about my Islamic heritage.  They have already made the assumption in their head that I had come to Islam and not been raised as such.  So I state, knowing very well what is about to emerge from my conversation partners mouth, “I am a convert”.  They quickly respond “No, no brother dont you know (In my head I think- Oh nooo. Here it goes AGAIN, time for yet another lecture)  its revert, not convert.  Every human is born a Muslim and they return or ‘revert’ back to their natural state when they accept Islam.” 

I wish I got a prize every time I had to listen to someone explain this to me or perhaps I should just stop saying convert so I do not have to receive this lecture EVERY time I use the word.  Do not get me wrong, I appreciate people explaining things to me.  But, don’t people ever think that maybe there are better things to remind me of rather than their opinion of my lexical preference or jumping on an opportunity to correct someone? Perhaps you can remind me of the beauty of Allah, perhaps the calamities our Ummah faces, perhaps the ways I can gain more knowledge, perhaps of the Qur’an, perhaps of the permissible forms of tawassul (drawing nearer to Allah).  I suppose it gets under my skin because I already know the story and feel like people are always itching for an opportunity to demonstrate that they have more knowledge than you do. However, they do so in arguing over trivial and unimportant matters… I know what they are about to tell me, I know it very well. However, I prefer to use the term convert.  It is in my opinion that both are acceptable and we should not correct someone on the choice of words they use, for this may be more offensive to someone than you might think. If you are presuming that they are in some form of ignorance of this deen or come off that way, the person you are talking to may have just received a huge and unnecessary slap in the face from you.  Not to mention, there are many things of higher importance that we should continue to remind ourselves about.  Anyways,  I prefer to use convert as opposed to revert.  Here is my reasoning and hopefully if you hear someone label themselves a convert in the future you will not give them a ‘fatwa’ on how to refer to themselves, but rather listen and get to know their story or praise Allah.

Ii is my understanding that Allah created us on a fitrah or natural state of existence.  In my opinion this does not mean I was a born a Muslim.  Rather, I was born in the nature which Allah prescribed for all of us.  This fitrah is a concept that all humans are born with an innate knowledge or recognition of tawhid ( oneness of God), with intelligence, with ihsan, and other human characteristics (two eyes, hair, natural emotions, etc) .  This fitrah is based on Al-Mithaq (The Covenant) please see 7:172 for a beautiful explanation in the Qur’an. It goes a little like this, when Allah created our souls he said to us  ”Am I not your Lord?” We all said, “Yes, we do testify.” On the day of judgement we will be called into account for our maintenance of this Covenant. The fitrah we are born on is tawhid (oneness of God), not Islam.   Once again, it is a condition or a state but not a religion.  If I lived in the woods and never met another human, I would 1) Have an innate feeling of having a creator–one creator 2) I would have gift of intellect which other creatures do not share to the same extent 3) and many other traits that are inherent in all humans.  So, I would be fulfilling my covenant with Allah, yet not practicing what we know to be as Islam.  So, when people say that they have reverted they are saying they have strayed from the innate awareness of tawhid that we were created with and later in life returned to it (i.e. they either disbelieved in God or accepted a spiritual view that was in contradiction to tawhid).  To me, Islam is a perfect match to the fitrah of humans and that is why so many people accept Islam, because it is so compatible with our true nature (fitrah) and is so appealing to the intellect. I do not find any other religion that totally syncs with the natural state of humans as Islam does. I personally have never strayed from the fitrah that Allah created me on.  Never once have I believed God had a son, never once have I ever believed that God has partners, and never once have I denied God.  Therefore, I have always been on the fitrah, which inherently led me to CONVERT my way of life from a life of ignorance to that of a Muslim.  Not from  DISBELIEF in the oneness of God to BELIEF in the oneness of God.  So, with all of this said, this is why I use the term CONVERT.. Please brothers/sisters, in the future do not correct people who refer to themselves as converts for it is nothing more than a word and it is the concepts we should be reminding each other of.  If you see me or another convert and want to correct any of us on what you believe is the correct word to use, please stop for a second and use this as a chance to remember Allah and exalt him instead of attempting to act as a theologian or a linguist.  If you still feel like you must say something, then us the praise for Allah and for his covenant and mercy upon us and not just criticizing somebodies preference of words.  Let us focus more on concepts rather than words and encourage eachother towards more intense and sincere ibadah (worship), inshaAllah….

ibn yahya

On a bright and clear sunny day a man sporting his typical garb walks down the street.  Minding his own business he enters the business district of the town in which he lives.  While taking in the scenery and admiring the beautiful day, he could not help but set his eyes on a shining sign with the letters “candy shop.”  This man has never had any candy in his life, because he was worried that it was unhealthy, could give him cavities, and give him sugar rushes. The man had always been wise and avoided what he knew could have any negative effects on him.  However, the man instantly imagined in his mind what candy might be his most favorite;  Lemonheads, Chocolate turtles and truffles, Twizzlers, chocolate covered raisins, lollipops, or maybe something  else.  After about  1o seconds, the man’s brain began to dream up the luscious tastes of these candies he has never before tasted.  The man could no longer control his urge to go candy shopping and indulge in a sweet sweet taste bud party. 

The man entered the store hearing the sharp “ding” of the door bell followed by a “hello” from the store attendant.  The attendant asked the man ” Pardon me sir, do you need any assistance?”   He quickly replied “Umm, no thank you.  I am just looking.”  At least this is what he was telling himself.  He started in the sugary aisles made his way down to the gum aisle until admiring all the sweet tastes along the way, until he reached the chocolates and rare candy aisle.   So sweet so, so alluring, and oh so tempting.  The man could not help but dream of being in his home surrounded by these exotic chocolates and their rich flavors.  He stood there for minutes debating what he wanted.  He engaged the attendant in dialogue talking about all of the common chocolates vs the rare ones.  He decided to take the next step and ask if he could taste each candy.  The attendant said that this may not be the best idea, but the man opened up each jar anyways and took bite after bite until he was overcome by a sugar high.  The sugar high made him open his eyes realizing that the sun had set hours ago and he had wasted his whole day overindulging in his desires to taste what he has never tasted. 

The attendant finally said “Sir, you have been here for hours.  Have you made your mind up yet?”  He replied, “Mam, I appreciate your help.  But I have tasted all of these chocolates and candies in this store and now I cannot make up my mind.  I like these and those, but I know I cannot possibly get all of them.  It is almost as if I have tasted every candy there is and now all I want are more options in the hopes to find a more pleasurable treat.  Actually, I am searching for the most delightful candy that exists. ”  The attendant replied ” My dear sir, do you not understand your poor decisions?”  The man said” What are you speaking of”  The attendant gently stated “God granted you this beautiful day and you were enjoying the bounties which he bestowed upon you.  Until you saw a candy store, knowing full well your desire for a great and out of this world candy.  You gave in and came in to just “look around”  You refused your inclination to pick one candy, leave, and enjoy the candy and the rest of your day.  You foolishly indulged and tasted every candy in the room until no longer could just one candy could fulfill your craving.  Now, you are left empty handed, unable to decide on a candy and your day is long over.  Your only option is to settle for one  candy that will not possibly be able to give you the pleasures you seek, for you will constantly be thinking about all of the other candies that you have tasted.  Your desires and indulgence have spoiled your ability to appreciate the candy that you are about to chose.  When you entered I asked you, “Sir can I help you”  because I knew you did not know exactly what you needed.  If you would have simply said yes, I could have quickly found you a candy or chocolate that you would have enjoyed.  Every time you would have come back here you would have known exactly what candy you fancy. But, because you were stubborn and refused the help offered to you, you will never truly be pleased with your decision.  My recommendation to you good sir is to accept the assistance people wish to provide to you, to pick something you suspect with all good reasons will please you, settle with your decision and enjoy your decision for the rest of your life.  This decision will make your life simple and will become the perfect sweet fix for life.  The more you taste, the less you can appreciate the magnificence of this one sweet treat.”

The man said “What a shame.  I have spent my whole life foolishly chasing my desires and indulging in things that perhaps I should have never indulged in and now I cannot find pleasure in the beauty of simplicity, but rather continue to search for love in grandiose things.  Look at me now, standing in your shop and in the span of one day my average clothes have become tattered, my hair has grown grey, my face and body have begun to droop and my heart has grown cold.  If I only would have settled with something simple and worked in my life to make it grand, I would have surely enjoyed life to its fullest and never would have been considered a fool.”

This unique hadith has surfaced several times this week in various discussions after I had read it in Imam Bukhari’s Al-adab Al-Mufrad, prior to that I have never heard this hadith.  Upon reflection I have awoken to find the profundity of this saying.  I thought I would share it on here.  In short, Prophet Muhammad (may the Peace and Blessings of God be on him) said, “The souls of humans were once as a gathered army. Those who knew each other from before will harmonize with one another, while those who did not know eachother will not.” Narrated by both Aisha may Allah be pleased with her and Abu Hurairah may Allah be pleased with him.

Reflection:

I remember growing up and just having like this 6th sense about who I am compatible with and who I am not compatible with.  I think a majority of people use the verb “vibe” to describe this feeling of compatibility.  I also recall the movies featuring love stories where a young man and a young woman who had been acting so bashfully eventually share a kiss.  After the kiss there were either fireworks or none at all….  I believe it is an age old sensation or myth depending on how you look at it.  SubhanAllah, this hadith just kept popping up in random discussion the week after I read it for the first time.  To me it explains a lot about the interpersonal chemistry between individuals.   It makes it easy for us to understand that we cannot force a friendship to work that isnt meant to.  Simply because our souls never mingled and just dont vibe.. what an interesting explanation to a psychosocial phenomonon.. Thank you Prophet Muhammad, may the Peace and Blessings of Allah be with you for additional insight into the social aspects of the human being..

asalaamu alaykum ( peace be with you all!!)

I am back in action, I have recently made a move out of Chicago to a nearby community known as Rockford as I have begun my career in this isolated location.  I have not had time to blog or express my opinions on this wordpress majiggy due to my overextension of myself into different projects and the rekindling of friendships.  Please keep me in your du’as as I hope to be opening my heart back up here shortly….

So, the zionist foundation ‘The Clarion Fund’ has put out this film to explain what they want people to believe is Islam.  Well, good for them.  Inciting hatred and fueling terrorist attacks by Americans against their Muslim-American neighbors (like what happened in Ohio) is absolutely UNAMERICAN.. These right wing, neo-con, trash talkers do not have the intelligence to see what the true threat to humanity is.  The problem that is plaguing the US sits not in the soul of a religion, but rather in the hearts of men.  Materialism and the our unending desire for power is what has infected individuals in our society.  If you want to talk about a true threat against the US, just look at ourselves.  We need to discard trivial matters and embrace the matters that are important, such as social justice, hypocrisy, and corruption. 

I found this to be very intriguing and felt compelled to share it.  Give it a good read and you will understand that this parable discusses a problem that people everywhere are suffering from, more specifically here in the US.  Let this story serve as a reminder or as an eye opener to a very prevalent disease of the heart..

The Woman: A Parable:

© Nuh Ha Mim Keller 2001

        A man was walking through the marketplace one afternoon when, just as the muezzin began the call to prayer, his eye fell on a woman’s back. She was strangely attractive, though dressed in fulsome black, a veil over head and face, and she now turned to him as if somehow conscious of his over-lingering regard, and gave him a slight but meaningful nod before she rounded the corner into the lane of silk sellers. As if struck by a bolt from heaven, the man was at once drawn, his heart a prisoner of that look, forever. In vain he struggled with his heart, offering it one sound reason after another to go his way-wasn’t it time to pray?-but it was finished: there was nothing but to follow.

        He hastened after her, turning into the market of silks, breathing from the exertion of catching up with the woman, who had unexpectedly outpaced him and even now lingered for an instant at the far end of the market, many shops ahead. She turned toward him, and he thought he could see a flash of a mischievous smile from beneath the black muslin of her veil, as she-was it his imagination?-beckoned to him again.

        The poor man was beside himself. Who was she? The daughter of a wealthy family? What did she want? He requickened his steps and turned into the lane where she had disappeared. And so she led him, always beyond reach, always tantalizingly ahead, now through the weapons market, now the oil merchants’, now the leather sellers’; farther and farther from where they began. The feeling within him grew rather than decreased. Was she mad? On and on she led, to the very edge of town.

        The sun declined and set, and there she was, before him as ever. Now they were come, of all places, to the City of Tombs. Had he been in his normal senses, he would have been afraid, but indeed, he now reflected, stranger places than this had seen a lovers’ tryst.

        There were scarcely twenty cubits between them when he saw her look back, and, giving a little start, she skipped down the steps and through the great bronze door of what seemed to be a very old sepulcher. A soberer moment might have seen the man pause, but in his present state, there was no turning back, and he went down the steps and slid in after her.

        Inside, as his eyes saw after a moment, there were two flights of steps that led down to a second door, from whence a light shone, and which he equally passed through. He found himself in a large room, somehow unsuspected by the outside world, lit with candles upon its walls. There sat the woman, opposite the door on a pallet of rich stuff in her full black dress, still veiled, reclining on a pillow against the far wall. To the right of the pallet, the man noticed a well set in the floor.

        “Lock the door behind you,” she said in a low, husky voice that was almost a whisper, “and bring the key.”

        He did as he was told.

        She gestured carelessly at the well. “Throw it in.”

        A ray of sense seemed to penetrate for a moment the clouds over his understanding, and a bystander, had there been one, might have detected the slightest of pauses.

        “Go on,” she said laughingly, “You didn’t hesitate to miss the prayer as you followed me here, did you?”

        He said nothing.

        “The time for sunset prayer has almost finished as well,” she said with gentle mockery. “Why worry? Go on, throw it in. You want to please me, don’t you?”

        He extended his hand over the mouth of the well, and watched as he let the key drop. An uncanny feeling rose from the pit of his stomach as moments passed but no sound came. He felt wonder, then horror, then comprehension.

        “It is time to see me,” she said, and she lifted her veil to reveal not the face of a fresh young girl, but of a hideous old crone, all darkness and vice, not a particle of light anywhere in its eldritch lines.

        “See me well,” she said. “My name is Dunya, This World. I am your beloved. You spent your time running after me, and now you have caught up with me. In your grave. Welcome, welcome.”

        At this she laughed and laughed, until she shook herself into a small mound of fine dust, whose fitful shadows, as the candles went out, returned to the darkness one by one…..

A question asked quite frequently by many Americans is who are these Muslims?  Not to mention the even bigger question that I am frequently presented with, why are you a Muslim?  The answer to this first question is easy.  Muslims are a diverse body of people with strong moral convictions, yet are still socially progressive.  They come from all over the world and speak a whole variety of languages.  Even though this group is so diverse, these 1.2 billion people have core beliefs that they share.  Most importantly, they believe in only ONE God.  One God with no partners, no sub-gods, no convoluted explanations of divine manifestations of God.  We also believe in hundreds of divinely inspired humans known as prophets that have been sent to spiritually rejuvenate people of their time.  There are a select number of prophets, known as messengers who have brought actual ways of life that God instructed them to teach their various communities.  (i.e. Moses – Torah, Jesus- Bible, Muhammad- Qur’an, peace be upon them all)  These are essentially the core fundamental beliefs of Islam.  There is much more to be said, but this is a brief explanation. 

This brings us to the next question.  I found this book that was written that documents the lives of converts to Islam all around the world.  Some of these people are persently scholars in our community, others are activists, others are jsut your normal run of the mill Muslims.  Yusuf Islam or Cat Stevens is discussed in this book as well.  Enjoy it!!

Why Normal People Accept Muslim…

A question posed by most of my family members and some of my friends when I tell them I cannot eat or drink until the sunsets.  It is hard for them to understand why we fast, and even more so, at such an intense level that no one else fasts at.  For those of you who are not aware, this is the blessed month of Ramadhan.  A month that is extremely revered for Muslims.  In most religious traditions, days that are considered special, holy, or important usually call for celebration.  Which is understandable, as humans we have this deep desire to have fun and do pleasing things that we don’t usually get do on these special days.  Well in Islam, we refrain from food and drink for 30 days from sunrise to sunset, but that is not all we refrain from.  We also refrain from poor behavior, from lustful thoughts and anything else that is spiritually damaging.  We believe that during this month, shaytan (satan) is chained up and cannot try to coerce us with his evil whispers.  So any negative things we do are solely from ourselves.  This is a great month for us to get closer to God and reflect on our relationship with the Most High. 

What I find really interesting is the linguistic history of this month.  So, Ramadhan has a root word and that root word is ramida or arramad, meaning intense scorching heat.  I have recently been informed on the conceptual significance of this term and feel compelled to share it.  This month of fasting has several effects on us.  But linguistically, this root word has several characteristics that are manifested over these thirty days.  One characterisitc of ‘ramida’ is that by refraining from eating and drinking we get an intense sensation of heat in our stomachs.  Inevitably, this heat assists us in becoming more disciplined in our eating habits and physically makes our stomachs smaller. 

A second characteristic of ‘ramida’ is that this intense heat has the ability to purify things.  For example, I used to be a big camper and when we would find water in a river or somewhere taht we REALLY needed water, we would boil it a few times to rid it of as many impurities as possible.  As humans, water is a major component of our cellular makeup.  This intense ‘heat’ of Ramdhan gives purifies us in a spiritual sense.  Now you may not believe me, but you almost have to try it to believe it.  This is my fifth year fasting, second year benig Muslim.  Through my experiences I have felt how close to God I get durign this month.  I was talking to a few different friends this week and each one of them told me how they almost wnat to cry because Ramdhan is almost over.  That is beautiful, even though we fast and struggle throughout the day, not one single Muslim I know wants to give up even one day of this month because of the effects it has on us spiritually. NOTHING, nothing else I have ever experienced in my life has the ability to spiritually rejuvenate you as fasting in the month of Ramadhan does.

The third and probably most profound characteristic of this word is another property intense heat which is it’s ability to mold things.  Let us take a piece of metal.  It is used to build skyscrapers in Chicago becaus it is so strong and sturdy, but if we apply intense heat ‘ramida’ to it, it will become soft and malleable.  The beauty of this is that it happens to us too.  We go into Ramdhan with a year of bad, unbreakable habits.  This month softens our eharts and enables us to mold our behaviors, our actions, and our mentalities.  Once the heat leaves, our hearts cool off and harden with these new virtues inscribed in our hearts. There is this age old American tradition of ‘New Years Resolutions’ which I have always personally found silly.  You cannot simply cahnge a behavior over night, because an outward behaviors is a refleciton of an inward condition.  We must change these conditions in order to bring about an effect.  For example, when you have an illness, do you treat the symptoms? or the source of the symptoms?  Likewise, as the name suggest, Ramadhan instills this fury of heat into our spirit and changes us for the better. 

If you are not a Muslim, I highly suggest you try fasting for just one day.  Talk to one of your Muslims friends and tell them you want to fast with them, I guarantee you that you will get somethign more out of it than just a grumbling stomach, a dry mouth, and bad breath.  If you are Muslim and you are not fasting for whatever reason you may have drafted up in your mind, no worldy gain can make up for what it is that you are missing out on.

Until next time, peace out my peeps…

Enjoy these last few days of Ramadhan!! Take full advantage of the ‘intense heat’!  #c6b06b

I attended the funeral of Imam Warith Deen Mohammad last week and was truly moved to see the number of people who showed up. Some estimates were up to 8000 people! wow.. Imagine a man with such a character that could draw that many people to his funeral.  Well, Imam W.D. Mohammad did, and for a good reason.  He brought light to so many African Americans living in the neverending cycle of societal oppression here in the US.  He brought true guidance and a true sense of self-worth to the community.  After I read this email by Azhar Usman, it honestly brought tears to my eyes.. I do not know if I am getting more soft with my old age or if the presence of injustice and irrational thinking is just really getting to me.  Please read the email below and tell me what it means to you!!!

An Apology
Heartfelt reflections on the passing of a legendary Blackamerican Muslim leader
 
On September 11th, 2008, while countless American flags whipped in the wind and the television and radio waves were dominated by remembrances, recordings, and stories about the terror attacks of seven years ago, I attended the funeral of Imam W.D. Mohammed (may God be pleased with him). For me, it was a somber day, but I found myself mostly lost in thought: about African-American Muslim communities, about the challenges ahead in American Muslim institution-building, and about the future of Islam in America. If you don’t know who Imam WDM was, you should look him up. The Sufis say: “The true sage belongs to his era.” And of the many gifts given to Imam WDM by God,20perhaps the most obvious and beneficial one was the Imam’s profound understanding of the principles of religion, and his adeptness at intelligently applying those Islamic principles in a socially and culturally appropriate manner befitting the everyday lives of his North American followers. While carefully respecting sound, traditional jurisprudential methodologies of the Islamic religion, and the collective religious history and time-honored scholarship of classical Islam, he promulgated creative ideas and dynamic teachings across many domains of human endeavor, including theology, law, spirituality and even ethics and aesthetics, that together articulated a vision for a quintessentially “American Muslim” cultural identity. And he did all of this before anyone else, with quiet strength and unending humility—a true sage indeed.
 
So I stood before his final resting place, brokenhearted. And I suddenly began to feel the weight of the moment, realizing that when God takes back one of his dearly beloved friends, those who are left behind should cry not for the deceased, but rather for themselves. For the fact that they are now without one of God’s friends in their midst, and, in a sense, they are orphaned. And the tears began to well up, for I became acutely aware that I was standing in front of the grave of my spiritual grandfather, who was himself a spiritual descendant of Bilal al-Habashi (may God be pleased with him), the mighty and beloved companion of the Prophet himself. Bilal was the first Black African to convert to al-Islam at the hands of the Prophet Muhammad (may God bless him and keep him) in the sands of Arabia nearly a thousand and a half years ago. Undoubtedly, some measure of that love, mercy, compassion, and spiritual stature that inhabited the heart of Bilal has found its way down through the ages, and I found myself begging God to transfer to my own heart some glimpse of these realities now laying before me.
 
Almost five years ago, my business partner, Preacher Moss (who is a member of the WDM community) founded the standup comedy tour “Allah Made Me Funny,” and he invited me to be his co-founder. Needless to say, it has been nothing less than an honor to work with him on the project. But to many, it was an unusual pairing: a Black comic and an Indian comic? Both Muslims? Working together? And before we ever even announced our partnership publicly, we met privately and swore an allegiance to one another—a blood oath of sorts—which was this: No matter what happens, in good times and in bad, we have to be the brothers no one expects us to be. And bui lt on this promise (and premise), we brought on our first collaborator, Brother Azeem (who is a member of Minister Farrakhan’s NOI), with whom we toured for over two years (2004-2006) before parting ways amicably. Then we brought Mohammed Amer onto the team in the fall of 2006 (a Kuwaiti-born Palestinian refugee who grew up in a Sunni Muslim family in Houston, Texas). Mo, Preach, and I are still going strong together, and we are grateful for the unqualified support, love, and blessings that Imam WDM and the entire community have always given us.
 
But today, as I observed the funeral proceedings, I felt sad and heavy-hearted. Something wasn’t sitting right. Something was physically paining my heart, and it felt like remorse, shame perhaps, maybe even guilt. I began to realize that the tears flowing from my eyes were as much a function of these feelings as they were any lofty spiritual aspirations of mine.
 
You see, I attended an interfaith event a couple of years ago on 9/11. A group had assembled to commemorate the tragic event, to honor those who perished that day, and to pledge ongoing in ter-community support and bridge-building to fight ignorance, hate, and intolerance. At that event, there was this short, middle-aged, sweet, extremely kindhearted, White Christian woman. When she took the microphone to speak, she was already teary-eyed, and I assumed that she was going to make some comments about the victims of 9/11, as so many others already had that night.
 
But she didn’t do that. Instead, she explained that she had become utterly grief-stricken by the constant barrage of news stories she witnessed about Muslims and Arabs being harassed, profiled, and mistreated after 9/11. She explained that she felt powerless to do anything about it, and that it made her sick to her stomach to hear of hate crimes against Muslims and Arabs, and especially to hear of Christian preachers denigrating Islam and its Prophet. She started to cry, and so did many others in the room, humbled by the magnanimity of this simple woman.
 
And then she did what I thought was a strange thing: she apologized. She prefaced her apology with all the logical disclaimers, such as “I know this may mean nothing to20you,” and “I know that I am not the one who did these horrible things,” and “I know that you may dismiss this as empty rhetoric until you see some follow-up action on my part, but anyway,” she continued, “I want to apologize on behalf of all the Christians and all non-Muslims and non-Arabs who have been attacking your communities, harassing your people, and accusing your religion of all these horrible things. I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry.” I was stunned. Speechless, in fact. Though all of her disclaimers were true, and my skeptical mind knew it, her apology melted our hearts. Here was this powerless servant of God sharing some of her most deeply felt emotional vulnerabilities, and she was apologizing to Muslims for something she didn’t even do? Jesus (may God bless him and keep him) once famously remarked: “Make the world your teacher,” and so I immediately took this woman as a lesson in humility. Admitting her powerlessness made her incredibly powerful.
 
And this brings me to the point (and title) of this essay. I would like to unburden myself of something that has been sitting like a ton of bricks on my heart for my entire life. I want to apologize to my Blackamerican brothers and sisters in Islam. I know that this apology may not mean very much; and I know that our American Musli m communities have a LONG way to go before we can have truly healthy political conciliation and de-racialized religious cooperation; and I know that I am not the one who is responsible for so much of the historical wrongdoing of so-called “immigrant Muslims”—wrongdoings that have been so hurtful, and insulting, and degrading, and disrespectful, and dismissive, and marginalizing, and often downright dehumanizing.
 
But anyway, for every “Tablighi” brother who may have had “good intentions” in his own subjective mind, but behaved in an utterly insensitive and outrageous manner toward you when he suggested that you need to learn how to urinate correctly, I’m sorry.
 
And for every Pakistani doctor who can find money in his budget to drive a Lexus and live in a million-dollar house in suburbia, and who has the audacity to give Friday sermons about the virtues of “Brotherhood in Islam,” while the “Black mosque” can’t pay the heating bills or provide enough money to feed starving Muslim families just twenty miles away, I’m sorry.
 
And for every Arab speaker in America who makes it his business to raise millions and millions of dollars to provide “relief” for Muslim refugees around the world, but turns a blind eye to the plight of our very own Muslim sisters and brothers right here in our American inner cities just because, in his mind, the color black might as well be considered invisible, I’m sorry.
 
And for every liquor store in the “hood” with a plaque that says Maashaa’ Allah hanging on the wall behind the counter, I’m sorry.
 
And for every news media item or Hollywood portrayal that constantly reinforces the notion that “Muslim=foreigner” so that the consciousness of Blackamerican Muslims begins even to doubt itself (asking “Can I ever be Muslim enough?”), I’m sorry.
 
And for every Salafi Muslim brother (even the ones who used to be Black themselves before converting to Arab) who has rattled off a hadith or a verse from Koran in Arabic as his “daleel” to Kafirize you and make you feel defensive about even claiming this deenas your own, I’m sorry.
 
And for every time you’ve been asked “So when did you convert to Islam?” even though that question should more properly have been put to your grandparents, since they became Muslims by the grace of God Almighty back in the 1950s, and raised your parents as believers, and Islam is now as much your own inheritance as it is the one’s posing that presumptuous, condescending question, I’m sorry.
 
And for every time some Muslim has self-righteously told you that your hijab is not quite “Shariah” enough, or your beard is not quite “Sunnah” enough, or your outfit is not quite “Islamic” enough, or your Koranic recitation is not quite “Arabic” enough, or your family customs are not quite “traditional” enough, or your worldview is not quite “classical” enough, or your ideas are not “authentic” enough, or your manner of making wuduis not quite “Hanafi,” “Shafi,” “Maliki,” or “Hanbali” enough, or your religious services are not quite “Masjid” enough, or your chicken is not quite “Halal” enough, I’m sorry.
 
And for every Labor Day weekend when you’ve felt divided in your heart, wondering “When will we everdo this thing right and figure out how we can pool our collective resources to have ONE, big convention?,” I’m sorry.
 
And for every time a Muslim has tried to bait you with a question about the Honorable Elijah Muhammad, trying to force you to condemn him—turning it into some sort of binary litmus test of true iman—with reckless and irresponsible disregard for the historical fact that he was among the first Black men in America to ever do anythingmeaningful for the upliftment and betterment of Black people, I’m sorry.
 
And for every20time you’ve heard of an African-American brother who tried to bring home a South Asian or Arab sister to meet his parents, only to learn that her parents would rather commit suicide than let their daughter marry a “Black Muslim” (a/k/a “Bilalian brother”), even as they cheer hypocritically at stadium style speeches by Imams Siraj Wahhaj, Zaid Shakir, Johari Abdul Malik, or others—or get in line to bring one of them to speak at their multi-million dollar fundraiser for yet another superfluous suburban mosque, I’m sorry.
 
I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I want every African-American Muslim brother and sister to know that I am ashamed of this treatment that you have received and, in many cases, continue to receive, over the decades. I want you to know that I am aware of it. I am conscious of the problem. (Indeed, I am even conscious that I myself am part of the problem since curing hypocrisy begins by looking in the mirror.) I am not alone in this apology. There are literally thousands, if not tens of thousands of young American Muslims just like me, born to immigrant parents who originate from all over the Muslim world. We get it, and we too are sick of the putrid stench of racism within our own Muslim communities. Let us pledge to w ork on this problem together, honestly validating our own and one another’s insecurities, emotions, and feelings regarding these realities. Forgiveness is needed to right past wrongs, yet forgiveness is predicated on acknowledging wrongdoing and sincerely apologizing. Let us make a blood oath of sorts.
 
When the bulldozer came to place the final mounds of dirt over the tomb of Imam WDM, I was standing under a nearby tree, under the light drizzle that had just begun (perhaps as a sign of mercy dropping from the heavens as the final moments of the burial were drawing to a close), and I was talking to a dear friend and sister in faith, whose family has been closely aligned with Imam WDM for decades. She shared with me a story that her father had just related to her about the passing of the Honorable Elijah Muhammad in 1975 (the same year I was born, incidentally). She told me that her father described the scene in the immediate aftermath of Elijah’s demise: utter confusion and chaos within the NOI and the communities surrounding it. There was much debate and discord about what direction the NOI would take, and many were still in shock and denial that the founder had actually died. Out of the midst of that confusion arose Imam WDM, and along with his strong leadership came an even more, perhaps20surprisingly courageous direction: the path away from the Black nationalism, pan-Africanism, and proto-religious beliefs of his father, and instead the unequivocal charge toward mainstream Islam, the same universal and cosmopolitan faith held and practiced by over a billion adherents worldwide. In this manner, her father explained, the death of Elijah Muhammad became a definitive end to a chapter in our collective history, and the resulting re-direction by Imam WDM marked the beginning of the next, far better, chapter in that unfolding history.
 
Maybe I am just an idealistic fool, or maybe Pharaoh Sanders was right about the Creator’s Master Plan, but I sincerely believe that all we have to do—all of us together: Black folks, South Asians (Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis), Arabs from every part of the Middle East and North Africa, Southeast Asians (Indonesians and Malaysians), Persians, Turks, Latinos, assorted Muslims of all stripes, colors, and backgrounds, and yes, even our White Muslim brothers and sisters—is live up to a simple promise to one another: No matter what happens, in good times and in bad, we have to be the brothers and sisters no one expects us to be.
 
It is hoped that the passing of Imam WDM will also mark the end of a chapter in our collective American Muslim history, and perhaps now, in earnest, we can all look together toward The Third Resurrection.
 
May God mend our broken hearts, lift our spirits, purify our souls, heal the rifts between our communities, unify our aims, remove our obstacles, defeat our enemies, and bless and accept our humble offerings and service.
  
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© 2008 Azhar Usman | 10 Ramadan 1429 | 11 September 2008
 
About the Author
Azhar Usman is a Chicago-based, full-time standup comedian. He is co-founder of “Allah Made Me Funny—The Official Muslim Comedy Tour,” which has toured extensively all over the world. He is frequently interviewed, profiled, and quoted in the press, and he is an advisor to the Inner-city Muslim Action Network’s Arts and Culture programs. Mr. Usman is also a co-founding board member of The Nawawi Foundation, a non-profit American Muslim research institution. He considers himself a citizen of the world and holds degrees from the University of Illinois at Chicago and the University of Minnesota Law School. Born and raised in Chicago, his parents originally hail from Bihar, India.
 
DISCLAIMER: The views and emotions expressed in this essay are those of the author and are not necessarily held, advocated, or even endorsed by any of the institutions with which he may be affiliated.