As Easter is a time of reflection for the two major monotheistic faiths i.e. Christianity and Judaism, I would like to share my thoughts on a facet of pluralism.
Mysticism or Sufism is the essence of all faiths. In this respect it can provide an enduring and meaningful bridge between various religious traditions that have evolved over different geographical, historical, liguistic and cultural contexts.The life and teachings of Mowlana Rumi are an expression of Sufism par excellence and indeed reflect this pluralism in the sense that they have a universal appeal and are not restricted to Islam. Therefore, they can contribute significantly to world peace especially in the Middle East where tensions are very often based on religious differences. The following anecdote which is taken from: "Say I am You, RUMI" by John Moyne and Coleman Barks underscores pluralism in the life of Rumi.
Aflaki describes Rumi's funeral in Konya: After they had brought the corpse on a wooden pallet, everyone uncovered their heads. Women, men, children, rich and poor. Men were walking and crying and tearing open their robes. Members of all communities were present. Christian, Jews, Greeks, Arabs, Turks, and representatives from each were walking in front holding their holy books and reading aloud, from the Psalms, the Gospels, the Quran, the Pentateuch. The wild tumult was heard by the sultan, who sent to ask why the members of other religions were so moved. They answered, "We saw in Rumi the real nature of Christ and Moses and all the prophets. Just as you claim that he was the Muhammad of our time, we found in him the Jesus and the Moses. Did he not say, 'We are like a flute, which with a single mode is tuned to two hundred religions.' Mevlana is the sun of truth which has shone on everyone." A Greek priest said, "Rumi is the bread which everyone needs to eat."
From the Marifati point of view (spiritual enlightenment through Sufism), all differences melt away. This is beautifully expressed by Hafiz as:
"I have learned so much from God that I can no longer call myself a Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Budhist , a Jew."
Sufism - A Strengthing Force in Pluralism
Rapture in Missouri
The following anecdote about spiritual enlightenment of a Christian demonstrates the pluralism and universality of mystical experience - that these experiences are not confined to any sect or religion. This person had visions of Jesus, Muhammad and great sages of all traditions during the experience which confirms the essential unity at the mystical level.
Also he found out later through literature of another tradition the explanation of the experience in terms of the awakening of the kundalini which is the dormant or coiled energy at the base of the spine. Upon spiritual enlightenment, this energy is released and enraptures the entire body. Our Ginans also allude to this theory.
Rapture in Missouri
"When the fire came to my heart, the spiritual lightning struck. It was like being pierced in some unintelligible way."
By Bradford Keeney
Reprinted with permission from Bushman Shaman by Bradford Keeney, Destiny Books, copyright 2005.
It was a late afternoon in January 1971. I was casually walking along a sidewalk at the University of Missouri, where I was now enrolled.
It was an extraordinarily warm day for winter; the temperature had risen to the midseventies. People were wearing short-sleeved shirts during a time of year when shovels and plows typically were out clearing away snow and ice. I was headed for a record shop, probably humming a jazz tune, when out of the blue I felt the most intense comfort and joy I had ever known. Sheer calm, relaxation, and happiness spread through my whole being. As I went along the way, I began to feel my body getting lighter and lighter until I felt I had no weight at all. I wasn’t concerned; I assumed it was a consequence of feeling so good on a spectacular day. This bliss continued to escalate and elaborate. I soon found myself in the midst of a kind of awareness I had never known before. An uncannily deep calm and wide-ranging peacefulness flooded my consciousness and I felt a certainty about life that no words can adequately convey. In that moment it seemed that all questions about life’s meaning could be answered instantly and effortlessly. I felt complete peace and joy, but at the same time I did not feel in the least ego-centered. On the contrary, I was losing awareness of my individuality. I was floating in pure consciousness. This knowing did not reflect or analyze what was going on, nor did it show delight, amazement, curiosity, or celebration of the moment. It was more like a total centering of awareness and being that became compressed to a microscopic dot, pulling in the container that had once held it, setting it free of physical and conceptual weight and burden. Paradoxically, this getting smaller resulted in a feeling of also becoming larger, a state in which my sense of time and space was lost in a realization of eternal presence. As I write of this event now, it is obvious that I was having some kind of mystical experience. But at the time I experienced no outside evaluation of what was taking place. I was the experience, absent of all internal conversation.
My body moved without effort. It wouldn’t be totally inaccurate to say that I felt as though I were flying—or at least as though I were gliding along the sidewalk, without a single muscle exerting any force to move me. It was automatic movement of a body focused entirely on a sense of pure knowing that was absent of self. My body walked me up the steps of a small university chapel made of stone.
There was no one inside. The place was dark, with only a little light coming from a dimmed iron chandelier. A dozen wooden pews faced a Gothic-style altar. I walked up to the front pew, sat down, and felt like I had arrived at my natural place. I sat absolutely still, without thought or movement. In those moments I perceived what seemed to be the unity and wholeness of the cosmos.
I don’t know how long I sat there, but I do know that what I am going to describe lasted throughout the evening.
It began as a baptism into a river of absolute love. My deep sense of knowing melted into an even deeper awareness, both of being loved and of loving all of life. To be more accurate, I did not feel separate from the beloved, and the beloved was the world. As I plunged deeper and deeper into this infinite ocean of love, the inside of my body began to get heated. The base of my spine felt like an oven that was getting progressively warmer until it burned with red-hot coals. As the inner heat turned into what felt like molten lava, my body began to tremble.
It may seem strange to you that I had no fear or anxiety about what was happening. I believe this had to do with the fact that I was not in a dualistic relationship with the experience. There was no “I” having “the experience”—there was only unexamined experience. The former boundaries of my self had simultaneously shrunk to an unseen dot and expended to embrace the whole of the universe. As I went further into the depths of love’s unlimited oceanic space, I also went higher into the sky, feeling both the heavens above and the underbelly of Earth below.
The fireball within began to crawl slowly up my spine. It had a purpose of its own and nothing was going to stop it. Like a baby, after the breaking of its mother’s water, this birth was determinedly on its way. As the lavalike movement crept upward, heat spread throughout every cell in my body. I was on fire. My legs, abdomen, arms, and especially my hands felt as though they could melt through metal.
When the fire came to my heart, the spiritual lightning struck. It was like being pierced in some unintelligible way. My heart was opened and, rather than bursting, it grew and grew. The best way I can describe this is to say that both my heart and head felt as theough they physically expanded, first getting larger by a matter of inches, then by feet. Soon my body had no boundaries—my heart and my head had encompassed all of space and time. Now I was really shaking, trembling, vibrating, and sweating. The inner fire became even hotter, vaporizing the molten lava into pure energy as it entered my head. This steam went out of the top of my head and turned into a ball of light that then stretched itself to a kind of oval, egglike shape immediately in front of me.
My body didn’t cool down or become still. It continued to shake and boil as I beheld a sacred light that filled itself with the image of Jesus. I was in such an intense state of focus that it does not do justice to the experience to say that I saw Jesus. I saw, heard, and felt him at the same time. Every sensory process in my body was fully alive, creating a multidimensional, holistic encounter of the sacred.
As I beheld Jesus, as I felt him, a realization came that my hands were still hot as fire. I felt that I could anyone at that moment. Jesus then showed me other holders of sacred wisdom and light. His image dissolved into the image of the disciples, the Virgin Mary, and many other saints, some of whom I did not know. On and on, this slow-moving picture show continued, a magical multisensory film revealing what seemed to be the truths of all the world religions. I witnessed images of Gandhi, the Buddha, Mohammed, holy medicine people, shamans, yogis, mystics, and host of other sacred beings, all residing in immediate luminosity.
In this way I was shown that all religions and spiritual practices come from and return to the same source—a divine light born out of unlimited and unqualified love. This love boils inside the inner spiritual vessel and makes the body quake at the slightest awareness of its presence. As I received what others later told me was “direct transmission,” “satori,” “cosmic consciousness,” and “spiritual rapture,” my body dropped with sweat and was baptized with tears that would not stop flowing. I knew, without a doubt, that I was having the most important experience a human being could ever have. And I have never doubted since that time than an experience of that kind is the greatest gift a person can receive.
I believe now that I was hooked up to a cosmic source of timeless wisdom that was principally about relationship and econological connectedness (rather than particularlity and linear cause-and-effect interaction). In this hookup to a spiritual “gas station,” I was filled with some kind of spiritual energy and knowing. That night my spiritual insides were rewired. I was reborn and made into a completely different person. I felt as though I received my entire spiritual education that evening, although it is taking me the rest of my life to understand it. From that moment at 19 years of age, I have carried an inner spiritual heat that precipitates body shaking and trembling as soon as I focus on spiritual matters.
But on that evening, 33 years ago from the time I am writing this account, I didn’t know what to call what had happened. Nor did I know how to talk about it. I also wasn’t sure what to do with the experience. I did find that it took several weeks to cool myself down.
I went to the university bookstore in hope of finding a book tht would give me some clue about what had happened. As I walked along one section of the store, a book dropped off the shelf and landed at my feet. I saw that it was the autobiography of a man named Gopi Krishna. This was the first time I ever encountered the word kundalini. As I stood there reading Gopi Krishna’s account of how kundalini, the yoga term for inner spiritual energy, could be heated and activated, I was astonished to find that other people had had similar experiences to mine. However, in Gopi Krishna’s case the kundalini awakening was so strong that it hurt him. I was very lucky to have only felt pure love, bliss, and revelation. There was no pain or horror in my introduction to kundalini.
Later I learned that kundalini is the same as chi, ki, seiki, mana, wakan, jojo, voodoo, Manitou, yesod, baraka, Ruach, holy spirit and holy ghost power. Whatever name you give it, it is the same. Somehow we all carry this wound-up spring of life force within us, at the base of our spines, and it can be awakened, causing it to heat up and ascend the spinal column. As I learned more about what had happened to me I couldn’t help asking why kunalini had awakened in me. Was it an accident or had I done something to prepare myself for this?
I entered early adulthood with a secret understanding of my place in the world. I was here to help others be touched by spirit, whether directly or indirectly, however circumstances led that to happen. At the same time, I felt I wasn’t ready to reactivate the internal heat to the degree that it had already played itself out. I told nobody of my kundalini experience. Something inside me said it would take many years of preparation and training to be ready to return to that kind of experience again.
Also he found out later through literature of another tradition the explanation of the experience in terms of the awakening of the kundalini which is the dormant or coiled energy at the base of the spine. Upon spiritual enlightenment, this energy is released and enraptures the entire body. Our Ginans also allude to this theory.
Rapture in Missouri
"When the fire came to my heart, the spiritual lightning struck. It was like being pierced in some unintelligible way."
By Bradford Keeney
Reprinted with permission from Bushman Shaman by Bradford Keeney, Destiny Books, copyright 2005.
It was a late afternoon in January 1971. I was casually walking along a sidewalk at the University of Missouri, where I was now enrolled.
It was an extraordinarily warm day for winter; the temperature had risen to the midseventies. People were wearing short-sleeved shirts during a time of year when shovels and plows typically were out clearing away snow and ice. I was headed for a record shop, probably humming a jazz tune, when out of the blue I felt the most intense comfort and joy I had ever known. Sheer calm, relaxation, and happiness spread through my whole being. As I went along the way, I began to feel my body getting lighter and lighter until I felt I had no weight at all. I wasn’t concerned; I assumed it was a consequence of feeling so good on a spectacular day. This bliss continued to escalate and elaborate. I soon found myself in the midst of a kind of awareness I had never known before. An uncannily deep calm and wide-ranging peacefulness flooded my consciousness and I felt a certainty about life that no words can adequately convey. In that moment it seemed that all questions about life’s meaning could be answered instantly and effortlessly. I felt complete peace and joy, but at the same time I did not feel in the least ego-centered. On the contrary, I was losing awareness of my individuality. I was floating in pure consciousness. This knowing did not reflect or analyze what was going on, nor did it show delight, amazement, curiosity, or celebration of the moment. It was more like a total centering of awareness and being that became compressed to a microscopic dot, pulling in the container that had once held it, setting it free of physical and conceptual weight and burden. Paradoxically, this getting smaller resulted in a feeling of also becoming larger, a state in which my sense of time and space was lost in a realization of eternal presence. As I write of this event now, it is obvious that I was having some kind of mystical experience. But at the time I experienced no outside evaluation of what was taking place. I was the experience, absent of all internal conversation.
My body moved without effort. It wouldn’t be totally inaccurate to say that I felt as though I were flying—or at least as though I were gliding along the sidewalk, without a single muscle exerting any force to move me. It was automatic movement of a body focused entirely on a sense of pure knowing that was absent of self. My body walked me up the steps of a small university chapel made of stone.
There was no one inside. The place was dark, with only a little light coming from a dimmed iron chandelier. A dozen wooden pews faced a Gothic-style altar. I walked up to the front pew, sat down, and felt like I had arrived at my natural place. I sat absolutely still, without thought or movement. In those moments I perceived what seemed to be the unity and wholeness of the cosmos.
I don’t know how long I sat there, but I do know that what I am going to describe lasted throughout the evening.
It began as a baptism into a river of absolute love. My deep sense of knowing melted into an even deeper awareness, both of being loved and of loving all of life. To be more accurate, I did not feel separate from the beloved, and the beloved was the world. As I plunged deeper and deeper into this infinite ocean of love, the inside of my body began to get heated. The base of my spine felt like an oven that was getting progressively warmer until it burned with red-hot coals. As the inner heat turned into what felt like molten lava, my body began to tremble.
It may seem strange to you that I had no fear or anxiety about what was happening. I believe this had to do with the fact that I was not in a dualistic relationship with the experience. There was no “I” having “the experience”—there was only unexamined experience. The former boundaries of my self had simultaneously shrunk to an unseen dot and expended to embrace the whole of the universe. As I went further into the depths of love’s unlimited oceanic space, I also went higher into the sky, feeling both the heavens above and the underbelly of Earth below.
The fireball within began to crawl slowly up my spine. It had a purpose of its own and nothing was going to stop it. Like a baby, after the breaking of its mother’s water, this birth was determinedly on its way. As the lavalike movement crept upward, heat spread throughout every cell in my body. I was on fire. My legs, abdomen, arms, and especially my hands felt as though they could melt through metal.
When the fire came to my heart, the spiritual lightning struck. It was like being pierced in some unintelligible way. My heart was opened and, rather than bursting, it grew and grew. The best way I can describe this is to say that both my heart and head felt as theough they physically expanded, first getting larger by a matter of inches, then by feet. Soon my body had no boundaries—my heart and my head had encompassed all of space and time. Now I was really shaking, trembling, vibrating, and sweating. The inner fire became even hotter, vaporizing the molten lava into pure energy as it entered my head. This steam went out of the top of my head and turned into a ball of light that then stretched itself to a kind of oval, egglike shape immediately in front of me.
My body didn’t cool down or become still. It continued to shake and boil as I beheld a sacred light that filled itself with the image of Jesus. I was in such an intense state of focus that it does not do justice to the experience to say that I saw Jesus. I saw, heard, and felt him at the same time. Every sensory process in my body was fully alive, creating a multidimensional, holistic encounter of the sacred.
As I beheld Jesus, as I felt him, a realization came that my hands were still hot as fire. I felt that I could anyone at that moment. Jesus then showed me other holders of sacred wisdom and light. His image dissolved into the image of the disciples, the Virgin Mary, and many other saints, some of whom I did not know. On and on, this slow-moving picture show continued, a magical multisensory film revealing what seemed to be the truths of all the world religions. I witnessed images of Gandhi, the Buddha, Mohammed, holy medicine people, shamans, yogis, mystics, and host of other sacred beings, all residing in immediate luminosity.
In this way I was shown that all religions and spiritual practices come from and return to the same source—a divine light born out of unlimited and unqualified love. This love boils inside the inner spiritual vessel and makes the body quake at the slightest awareness of its presence. As I received what others later told me was “direct transmission,” “satori,” “cosmic consciousness,” and “spiritual rapture,” my body dropped with sweat and was baptized with tears that would not stop flowing. I knew, without a doubt, that I was having the most important experience a human being could ever have. And I have never doubted since that time than an experience of that kind is the greatest gift a person can receive.
I believe now that I was hooked up to a cosmic source of timeless wisdom that was principally about relationship and econological connectedness (rather than particularlity and linear cause-and-effect interaction). In this hookup to a spiritual “gas station,” I was filled with some kind of spiritual energy and knowing. That night my spiritual insides were rewired. I was reborn and made into a completely different person. I felt as though I received my entire spiritual education that evening, although it is taking me the rest of my life to understand it. From that moment at 19 years of age, I have carried an inner spiritual heat that precipitates body shaking and trembling as soon as I focus on spiritual matters.
But on that evening, 33 years ago from the time I am writing this account, I didn’t know what to call what had happened. Nor did I know how to talk about it. I also wasn’t sure what to do with the experience. I did find that it took several weeks to cool myself down.
I went to the university bookstore in hope of finding a book tht would give me some clue about what had happened. As I walked along one section of the store, a book dropped off the shelf and landed at my feet. I saw that it was the autobiography of a man named Gopi Krishna. This was the first time I ever encountered the word kundalini. As I stood there reading Gopi Krishna’s account of how kundalini, the yoga term for inner spiritual energy, could be heated and activated, I was astonished to find that other people had had similar experiences to mine. However, in Gopi Krishna’s case the kundalini awakening was so strong that it hurt him. I was very lucky to have only felt pure love, bliss, and revelation. There was no pain or horror in my introduction to kundalini.
Later I learned that kundalini is the same as chi, ki, seiki, mana, wakan, jojo, voodoo, Manitou, yesod, baraka, Ruach, holy spirit and holy ghost power. Whatever name you give it, it is the same. Somehow we all carry this wound-up spring of life force within us, at the base of our spines, and it can be awakened, causing it to heat up and ascend the spinal column. As I learned more about what had happened to me I couldn’t help asking why kunalini had awakened in me. Was it an accident or had I done something to prepare myself for this?
I entered early adulthood with a secret understanding of my place in the world. I was here to help others be touched by spirit, whether directly or indirectly, however circumstances led that to happen. At the same time, I felt I wasn’t ready to reactivate the internal heat to the degree that it had already played itself out. I told nobody of my kundalini experience. Something inside me said it would take many years of preparation and training to be ready to return to that kind of experience again.
It has often been said that Sufism is the backbone of all major revivals in Islamic history and that they can provide a bridge between conflicting interpretations and ideologies. The following is an article about Sufi activities in Iraq. They may have an important role to play if given proper recognition by the mainstream sects.
Iraq Sunnis, Shi'ites unite to mortify the flesh By
Andrew Hammond and Seif Fuad
Tue Aug 30, 8:09 AM ET
SULAIMANIYA, Iraq (Reuters) - Ahmed Jassem, a Shi'ite
from Iraq's holy city of Kerbala, sticks knives
into the bodies of his mostly Sunni followers. They
say they feel no pain, standing silently as the blades
pierce their skin.
ADVERTISEMENT
While sectarian strife threatens to tear Iraq apart,
mystical Sufi orders like the Kasnazani still manage
to bring Sunni and Shi'ite Muslims, as well as Arabs
and Kurds, together.
Sunni insurgents are fighting a relentless battle
against the Shi'ite-led government which came to power
after the U.S. invasion of 2003, but within the
confines of Sufi gatherings the Islamic sects mutilate
each other to get close to God.
"God said the most blessed among you is the most
pious, being close to God has nothing to do with your
background," said Jassem at a weekly meeting of the
Kasnazani order in Sulaimaniya in northern Iraq.
"The Kasnazani order makes no difference between Sunni
and Shi'ite, Arab and Kurd, or Iranian," said the man
whose job is to mortify the flesh of other Muslims.
His Sunni followers proudly display their wounds. One
man has three large kitchen knives lodged into his
scalp. Another has a skewer entering one cheek and
exiting from the other. All around people sway in a
hypnotic daze to the Sufi music.
SUFFERING TO GET CLOSER TO GOD
Sufism -- a mystical form of Islam that is more
liberal than the more demanding Sunni Wahhabism of
Saudi Arabia -- appeals to Shi'ites because of its
veneration of members of the Prophet Mohammad's
family.
The founders of many Sufi orders trace a bloodline
that goes back to the Prophet. Followers try to get
closer to the divine through dance, music and other
physical rituals.
The Kasnazani is Iraq's largest Sufi order and is a
branch of the Qadiriyya order which spreads across the
Islamic world.
"Body piercing with knives, skewers, drinking poison,
eating glass and taking electricity -- these are all
signs of being blessed by God," Jassem said, listing
Kasnazani practices.
"When the knife comes out, the dervish is healed
straight away. This is the blessing of God and power
of the order."
Each apprentice, or dervish, goes through spiritual
and physical training in order to learn how to endure
what would otherwise be considered forms of torture.
Qusay Abdel-Latif, a doctor from Basra in south Iraq,
said this divine intervention has tempered his belief
in science.
"Once they wrapped an electric wire around my body and
ran electricity through it, but I didn't feel
anything. I got closer to God through this," he said.
"I can only explain it through the divine power that
prevented the pain from the electricity, which as we
know should mean death or serious consequences," he
said.
LOW PROFILE
The Kasnazani order has been forced to take a low
profile in recent years. Its leader, Sheikh Mohammed
al-Kasnazani, left Baghdad for Iraqi Kurdistan in 1999
after Saddam Hussein's government became
suspicious of his popularity.
Kasnazani's sons are active in politics, running a
political party and a national newspaper which tries
to walk a fine line through the country's sectarian
minefield.
Islamist radicals among the insurgency frown on Sufism
as emotional superstition. While deadly attacks on the
order have been rare, 10 people died in a suicide
attack on a Kasnazani gathering in Balad, north of
Baghdad, in June.
"The Islamist extremists like al Qaeda, Ansar al-Sunna
and the Wahhabis are against Sufism, and since
Kasnazani is the main order they are against us," said
Abdel-Salam al-Hadithi, spokesman of the Central
Council for Sufi Orders in Baghdad.
The Kasnazani order has been forced to scale down its
activities in Sunni-dominated west Iraq, Hadithi said.
In normal times, hundreds of thousands of Iraqis would
head to celebrations of holy figures but now people
are no longer going, fearing random violence or
deliberate attacks.
"Iraq is sinking in a sea of blood right now and no
one is safe, whatever their sect or ethnic
background," Hadithi said.
Iraq Sunnis, Shi'ites unite to mortify the flesh By
Andrew Hammond and Seif Fuad
Tue Aug 30, 8:09 AM ET
SULAIMANIYA, Iraq (Reuters) - Ahmed Jassem, a Shi'ite
from Iraq's holy city of Kerbala, sticks knives
into the bodies of his mostly Sunni followers. They
say they feel no pain, standing silently as the blades
pierce their skin.
ADVERTISEMENT
While sectarian strife threatens to tear Iraq apart,
mystical Sufi orders like the Kasnazani still manage
to bring Sunni and Shi'ite Muslims, as well as Arabs
and Kurds, together.
Sunni insurgents are fighting a relentless battle
against the Shi'ite-led government which came to power
after the U.S. invasion of 2003, but within the
confines of Sufi gatherings the Islamic sects mutilate
each other to get close to God.
"God said the most blessed among you is the most
pious, being close to God has nothing to do with your
background," said Jassem at a weekly meeting of the
Kasnazani order in Sulaimaniya in northern Iraq.
"The Kasnazani order makes no difference between Sunni
and Shi'ite, Arab and Kurd, or Iranian," said the man
whose job is to mortify the flesh of other Muslims.
His Sunni followers proudly display their wounds. One
man has three large kitchen knives lodged into his
scalp. Another has a skewer entering one cheek and
exiting from the other. All around people sway in a
hypnotic daze to the Sufi music.
SUFFERING TO GET CLOSER TO GOD
Sufism -- a mystical form of Islam that is more
liberal than the more demanding Sunni Wahhabism of
Saudi Arabia -- appeals to Shi'ites because of its
veneration of members of the Prophet Mohammad's
family.
The founders of many Sufi orders trace a bloodline
that goes back to the Prophet. Followers try to get
closer to the divine through dance, music and other
physical rituals.
The Kasnazani is Iraq's largest Sufi order and is a
branch of the Qadiriyya order which spreads across the
Islamic world.
"Body piercing with knives, skewers, drinking poison,
eating glass and taking electricity -- these are all
signs of being blessed by God," Jassem said, listing
Kasnazani practices.
"When the knife comes out, the dervish is healed
straight away. This is the blessing of God and power
of the order."
Each apprentice, or dervish, goes through spiritual
and physical training in order to learn how to endure
what would otherwise be considered forms of torture.
Qusay Abdel-Latif, a doctor from Basra in south Iraq,
said this divine intervention has tempered his belief
in science.
"Once they wrapped an electric wire around my body and
ran electricity through it, but I didn't feel
anything. I got closer to God through this," he said.
"I can only explain it through the divine power that
prevented the pain from the electricity, which as we
know should mean death or serious consequences," he
said.
LOW PROFILE
The Kasnazani order has been forced to take a low
profile in recent years. Its leader, Sheikh Mohammed
al-Kasnazani, left Baghdad for Iraqi Kurdistan in 1999
after Saddam Hussein's government became
suspicious of his popularity.
Kasnazani's sons are active in politics, running a
political party and a national newspaper which tries
to walk a fine line through the country's sectarian
minefield.
Islamist radicals among the insurgency frown on Sufism
as emotional superstition. While deadly attacks on the
order have been rare, 10 people died in a suicide
attack on a Kasnazani gathering in Balad, north of
Baghdad, in June.
"The Islamist extremists like al Qaeda, Ansar al-Sunna
and the Wahhabis are against Sufism, and since
Kasnazani is the main order they are against us," said
Abdel-Salam al-Hadithi, spokesman of the Central
Council for Sufi Orders in Baghdad.
The Kasnazani order has been forced to scale down its
activities in Sunni-dominated west Iraq, Hadithi said.
In normal times, hundreds of thousands of Iraqis would
head to celebrations of holy figures but now people
are no longer going, fearing random violence or
deliberate attacks.
"Iraq is sinking in a sea of blood right now and no
one is safe, whatever their sect or ethnic
background," Hadithi said.
Don't you see that the roads to Makkah are all different?...The roads are different, the goal one...When people come there, all quarrels or differences or disputes that happened along the road are resolved...Those who shouted at each other along the road 'you are wrong' or 'you are an infidel' forgot their differences when they come there because there, all hearts are in unison. - Rumi
The following poem is an expression of the highest consciousness attained through spiritual elvation where all physical identities and barriers be they religious, cultural, national, tribal are broken apart and transended into the only one.
Rumi - I Am The Life Of My Beloved:
What can I do, Muslims? I do not know myself.
I am no Christian, no Jew, no Magian, no Musulman.
Not of the East, not of the West. Not of the land, not of the sea.
Not of the Mine of Nature, not of the circling heavens,
Not of earth, not of water, not of air, not of fire;
Not of the throne, not of the ground, of existence, of being;
Not of India, China, Bulgaria, Saqseen;
Not of the kingdom of the Iraqs, or of Khorasan;
Not of this world or the next: of heaven or hell;
Not of Adam, Eve, the gardens of Paradise or Eden;
My place placeless, my trace traceless.
Neither body nor soul: all is the life of my Beloved.
I have put away duality: I have seen the Two worlds as one.
I desire One, I know One, I see One, I call One.
---Jalaluddin Rumi---
Rumi - I Am The Life Of My Beloved:
What can I do, Muslims? I do not know myself.
I am no Christian, no Jew, no Magian, no Musulman.
Not of the East, not of the West. Not of the land, not of the sea.
Not of the Mine of Nature, not of the circling heavens,
Not of earth, not of water, not of air, not of fire;
Not of the throne, not of the ground, of existence, of being;
Not of India, China, Bulgaria, Saqseen;
Not of the kingdom of the Iraqs, or of Khorasan;
Not of this world or the next: of heaven or hell;
Not of Adam, Eve, the gardens of Paradise or Eden;
My place placeless, my trace traceless.
Neither body nor soul: all is the life of my Beloved.
I have put away duality: I have seen the Two worlds as one.
I desire One, I know One, I see One, I call One.
---Jalaluddin Rumi---
Government to set up Sufi Advisory Council
By Ahmad Hassan
Sunday, 07 Jun, 2009 | 10:25 PM PST |
ISLAMABAD: The government on Sunday announced setting up of a 7-member ‘Sufi Advisory Council’ (SAC) with an aim to combating extremism and fanaticism by spreading Sufism in the country.
Interestingly, the SAC replaces an earlier such exercise when the PML-Q government had notified constitution of a ‘National Sufi Council’ with party president Chaudhry Shujaat as its president and taking some progressive intellectuals on it to give Sufism a chance to flourish.
The said NSC however became dormant after holding a ‘Sufi gala’ — a semi-music festival — in Lahore’s Qala and printing calendars in the name of council.
According to an official handout Haji Muhammad Tayyab who heads one of several factions of Jamiat Ulema Pakistan (JUP) will be the chairman of the SAC which will be holding its first meeting at the ministry of religious affairs on Tuesday June 9.
Other members of the SAC include Sahibzada Sajidur Rahman, Maulana Syed Charaghuddin Shah, Rawalpindi, Dr. Ghazanfar Mehdi Islamabad, Hafiz Muhammad Tufail Islamabad, Iranmullah Jan, Director General Ministry of Religious Affairs and Abdul Ahad Haqqani Deputy Director R&S) MORA.
While two last named persons were ministry’s officials Dr. Ghazanfar Mehdi is a retired government official, Sajidur Rahman is a close relative of Raja Zafarul Haq (PML-N) and Charaghuddin Shah is a member of PML-Q’s Ulema Mashaikh wing.
Haji Hanif Tayyab remained part of former military dictator Ziaul Haq’s regime in various capacities including a minister.
It is not clear whether another religious body could be set up in presence of Council of Islamic Ideology which is a constitutional body.
http://www.dawn.com/wps/wcm/connect/daw ... ncil-zj-08
By Ahmad Hassan
Sunday, 07 Jun, 2009 | 10:25 PM PST |
ISLAMABAD: The government on Sunday announced setting up of a 7-member ‘Sufi Advisory Council’ (SAC) with an aim to combating extremism and fanaticism by spreading Sufism in the country.
Interestingly, the SAC replaces an earlier such exercise when the PML-Q government had notified constitution of a ‘National Sufi Council’ with party president Chaudhry Shujaat as its president and taking some progressive intellectuals on it to give Sufism a chance to flourish.
The said NSC however became dormant after holding a ‘Sufi gala’ — a semi-music festival — in Lahore’s Qala and printing calendars in the name of council.
According to an official handout Haji Muhammad Tayyab who heads one of several factions of Jamiat Ulema Pakistan (JUP) will be the chairman of the SAC which will be holding its first meeting at the ministry of religious affairs on Tuesday June 9.
Other members of the SAC include Sahibzada Sajidur Rahman, Maulana Syed Charaghuddin Shah, Rawalpindi, Dr. Ghazanfar Mehdi Islamabad, Hafiz Muhammad Tufail Islamabad, Iranmullah Jan, Director General Ministry of Religious Affairs and Abdul Ahad Haqqani Deputy Director R&S) MORA.
While two last named persons were ministry’s officials Dr. Ghazanfar Mehdi is a retired government official, Sajidur Rahman is a close relative of Raja Zafarul Haq (PML-N) and Charaghuddin Shah is a member of PML-Q’s Ulema Mashaikh wing.
Haji Hanif Tayyab remained part of former military dictator Ziaul Haq’s regime in various capacities including a minister.
It is not clear whether another religious body could be set up in presence of Council of Islamic Ideology which is a constitutional body.
http://www.dawn.com/wps/wcm/connect/daw ... ncil-zj-08
Omid Safi speaks on `The ethics of reform'
July 2009
Professor Omid Safi of the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, delivered the third lecture in the `Talking Ethics' series at the IIS on 19 June 2009. What the Sufi tradition brings to the practice of Muslim ethics, Professor Safi argued, is a deep appreciation of the lived nature of what the Holy Qur'an and the Prophet taught.
Social justice as a defining value in the founding age of Islam and Muslim ethics has remained vital to Sufi networks, where it provides rich bonds of solidarity. Indeed, the Holy Qur'an celebrates justice (`adl) with beauty (ihsan) – which inspires the understanding of solidarity among Sufis as one of both love and social bonding. This was interwoven with values of nonviolence and the instance on seeing each individual as belonging to the realm of the sacred.
Amidst the emphasis in modernity on citizens being `children of the now', engaged fully with contemporary public issues, Professor Safi saw in tradition a redeeming power that Muslim scholars would do well to keep in perspective. There was far too much debate about what `Islam' is not, and all the more so since the events of 11 September, 2001; yet one only affiliated with a religion for what it actually was, rather than what it was not. Here, the Sufi tradition offered a living link to the values that Islam had always espoused. Professor Safi spoke of those values as `Muhammadi ethics', a fusion of the spiritual and social that the Holy Qur'an repeatedly addressed and which Prophet Muhammad lived. At the same time, Professor Safi noted that tradition itself must be understood as dynamic – one that had to be lived and validated from day to day – not a passive heritage.
Questions from the audience focused chiefly on how such an ethics could survive and prevail in a world that was often highly uncivil. This was also raised earlier in the introductory remarks by Dr Amyn Sajoo, the organiser of this series, who recalled that `moral engagement' ran all kinds of risks from various parts of the public square. Professor Safi agreed that there were practical limits to a Sufi-centred strategy alone – but observed that those advocating reform (islah) were obliged to hold fast to the values of equity, solidarity and love that Islam stood for. This was also the message of the iconic figure of Mowlana Rumi (d.1273), who spent a lifetime in maturing the spiritual instincts and ethics for which he is celebrated across the world.
Dr Amyn Sajoo: Introductory Remarks
Abstract of the lecture: "The Ethics of Reform: Justice and Love in Contemporary Islam"
http://www.iis.ac.uk/view_article.asp?ContentID=110422
July 2009
Professor Omid Safi of the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, delivered the third lecture in the `Talking Ethics' series at the IIS on 19 June 2009. What the Sufi tradition brings to the practice of Muslim ethics, Professor Safi argued, is a deep appreciation of the lived nature of what the Holy Qur'an and the Prophet taught.
Social justice as a defining value in the founding age of Islam and Muslim ethics has remained vital to Sufi networks, where it provides rich bonds of solidarity. Indeed, the Holy Qur'an celebrates justice (`adl) with beauty (ihsan) – which inspires the understanding of solidarity among Sufis as one of both love and social bonding. This was interwoven with values of nonviolence and the instance on seeing each individual as belonging to the realm of the sacred.
Amidst the emphasis in modernity on citizens being `children of the now', engaged fully with contemporary public issues, Professor Safi saw in tradition a redeeming power that Muslim scholars would do well to keep in perspective. There was far too much debate about what `Islam' is not, and all the more so since the events of 11 September, 2001; yet one only affiliated with a religion for what it actually was, rather than what it was not. Here, the Sufi tradition offered a living link to the values that Islam had always espoused. Professor Safi spoke of those values as `Muhammadi ethics', a fusion of the spiritual and social that the Holy Qur'an repeatedly addressed and which Prophet Muhammad lived. At the same time, Professor Safi noted that tradition itself must be understood as dynamic – one that had to be lived and validated from day to day – not a passive heritage.
Questions from the audience focused chiefly on how such an ethics could survive and prevail in a world that was often highly uncivil. This was also raised earlier in the introductory remarks by Dr Amyn Sajoo, the organiser of this series, who recalled that `moral engagement' ran all kinds of risks from various parts of the public square. Professor Safi agreed that there were practical limits to a Sufi-centred strategy alone – but observed that those advocating reform (islah) were obliged to hold fast to the values of equity, solidarity and love that Islam stood for. This was also the message of the iconic figure of Mowlana Rumi (d.1273), who spent a lifetime in maturing the spiritual instincts and ethics for which he is celebrated across the world.
Dr Amyn Sajoo: Introductory Remarks
Abstract of the lecture: "The Ethics of Reform: Justice and Love in Contemporary Islam"
http://www.iis.ac.uk/view_article.asp?ContentID=110422
Sufism: Faith's smiling face
By Ali Eteraz
author
Were Islam a buffet, I'd be the guy that shows up in the morning and stays late, picking and tasting every item, simultaneously stuffed and starving, simultaneously gluttonous and bulimic. From madrassas in rural Pakistan to traditional elders in the country's urban bungalows; from cramped immigrant mosques in Brooklyn to the technocratic Islam at elite East Coast universities; from someone veiling his spiritual malaise with romanticized visions of Islamic supremacism to someone who douses his hypocrisies in liberal Islamic reform -- I have, to put it mildly, lived a lot of Islams. I am done with dabbling now; or maybe I am just taking a break; either way, it has allowed me to tell some fun stories about the religion. One of those that I did not get an opportunity to relate in my book is about my experiences with the sorts of Sufis that I've come across in America.
Sufism, generally referred to as the mystical or "inner" dimension of Islam, which tends to put a focus on one's individual relation to God through guidance from a spiritual elder, has been around almost since the beginning of the religion. It is worldwide. During the course of the 20th Century, Sufism made its way to America. Now it exists in orthodox and heterodox ways, in "drunk" and "sober" ways, in universalist and exclusivist ways, and even in the form of a female whirling dervish that dances to Turkish electronica.
There is, for example, a Sufi mosque with a glittering white dome located just outside of Philadelphia, affiliated with a Sufi order named after Bawa Muhaiyaddeen. He came this country in the 1970's after decades of mystical leadership in Sri Lanka. His work of simple living is now carried out by his followers. It is said that the writer, Coleman Barks, who is famous for his translations of the mystic, Rumi, began his project when Bawa Muhaiyaddeen appeared to him in a dream. When I lived in Philly I went to this mosque a few times. Once it was to serve as an extra in an experimental silent film by a student director. She needed to film inside a Muslim prayer area with a lot of equipment and was afraid of asking the more orthodox mosques in case they didn't approve of her storyline or all the non-Muslims she was bringing along.
Another Sufi landmark is in Manhattan, just next to White Horse Tavern, the pub where Dylan Thomas drank. The mosque, which houses the American followers of a Persian order, is located inside a small brown building with a calligraphic sign. When I was deeply unhappy practicing law I went to one of the gatherings here and sat around in the sitting area, eventually having a long heart-to-heart with the rector of the place. A number of people of various ethnicities -- both men and women -- came inside during that time and went to an inner room where they engaged in their spiritual practices. I wanted to join them but was told that before I could I would have to have a meeting with the order's spiritual leader, who was not in New York at the time.
I also went to a gathering of a conservative Sufi order called the Naqshbandi. They met on Friday nights in an old apartment building near Lincoln Tunnel. Men and women were both present but sat on opposite sides of the room. The men wore green turbans and the women covered their hair. There was an older saint with a long beard who sat in the middle and once the lights were dimmed, led a series of prayers recited in a rhythmic way. I had gone in just to observe but by the end I was swaying my head and participating. The guy that had invited me was someone I used to have a lot of religious arguments with. Afterwards we became friendly.
Going around the country I have met all sorts of American Sufis. When I was in college a former hippie once came to lecture some of us and talked about the purification of the heart and how to avoid all the "new-age" Sufis. I also maintain correspondence with a Sufi from the Shia tradition. He is unique because unlike most of the placid and restrained mystics I've met, he tends to lose his temper very quickly. I have almost met a number of individuals that have made a close study of Ibn Arabi, a Spanish mystic whose ideas about the unity of creation evoke Neruda and Whitman.
To me, the most interesting thing about Sufism is its paradoxical place in my life. Somehow, for all of my stuttering, stammering, rationalizing, sometimes authentic, mostly sinful, always perplexed approach to faith, it has been these austere Sufis, with their stentorian obeisance to a higher principle, their complete surrender to the authority of a saintly figure, their often pre-modern outlook, who have been most inclined to embrace me without asking questions. They retain a view towards chaos of the world that is not merely hopeful, but outright cheerful, a smile stretched eternally onto the face of the faith. For all of us melancholics and obsessives and loners and miscreants, with our spiritual gastroenteritis and Nietzschean dyspepsia, the existence of the Sufis is thoroughly soothing, even if we never join their orders or learn their prayers.
As for the electronica loving whirling dervish, I am still trying to meet her.
Ali Eteraz, author of "Children of Dust: A Memoir of Pakistan", was born in Pakistan and has lived in the Middle East, the Caribbean, and the United States. A graduate of Emory University and Temple Law School, he was selected for the Outstanding Scholar's Program at the United States Department of Justice and later worked in corporate litigation in Manhattan. His blog in the Islamosphere received nearly two million views as well as a Brass Crescent award for originality.
http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfa ... _face.html
By Ali Eteraz
author
Were Islam a buffet, I'd be the guy that shows up in the morning and stays late, picking and tasting every item, simultaneously stuffed and starving, simultaneously gluttonous and bulimic. From madrassas in rural Pakistan to traditional elders in the country's urban bungalows; from cramped immigrant mosques in Brooklyn to the technocratic Islam at elite East Coast universities; from someone veiling his spiritual malaise with romanticized visions of Islamic supremacism to someone who douses his hypocrisies in liberal Islamic reform -- I have, to put it mildly, lived a lot of Islams. I am done with dabbling now; or maybe I am just taking a break; either way, it has allowed me to tell some fun stories about the religion. One of those that I did not get an opportunity to relate in my book is about my experiences with the sorts of Sufis that I've come across in America.
Sufism, generally referred to as the mystical or "inner" dimension of Islam, which tends to put a focus on one's individual relation to God through guidance from a spiritual elder, has been around almost since the beginning of the religion. It is worldwide. During the course of the 20th Century, Sufism made its way to America. Now it exists in orthodox and heterodox ways, in "drunk" and "sober" ways, in universalist and exclusivist ways, and even in the form of a female whirling dervish that dances to Turkish electronica.
There is, for example, a Sufi mosque with a glittering white dome located just outside of Philadelphia, affiliated with a Sufi order named after Bawa Muhaiyaddeen. He came this country in the 1970's after decades of mystical leadership in Sri Lanka. His work of simple living is now carried out by his followers. It is said that the writer, Coleman Barks, who is famous for his translations of the mystic, Rumi, began his project when Bawa Muhaiyaddeen appeared to him in a dream. When I lived in Philly I went to this mosque a few times. Once it was to serve as an extra in an experimental silent film by a student director. She needed to film inside a Muslim prayer area with a lot of equipment and was afraid of asking the more orthodox mosques in case they didn't approve of her storyline or all the non-Muslims she was bringing along.
Another Sufi landmark is in Manhattan, just next to White Horse Tavern, the pub where Dylan Thomas drank. The mosque, which houses the American followers of a Persian order, is located inside a small brown building with a calligraphic sign. When I was deeply unhappy practicing law I went to one of the gatherings here and sat around in the sitting area, eventually having a long heart-to-heart with the rector of the place. A number of people of various ethnicities -- both men and women -- came inside during that time and went to an inner room where they engaged in their spiritual practices. I wanted to join them but was told that before I could I would have to have a meeting with the order's spiritual leader, who was not in New York at the time.
I also went to a gathering of a conservative Sufi order called the Naqshbandi. They met on Friday nights in an old apartment building near Lincoln Tunnel. Men and women were both present but sat on opposite sides of the room. The men wore green turbans and the women covered their hair. There was an older saint with a long beard who sat in the middle and once the lights were dimmed, led a series of prayers recited in a rhythmic way. I had gone in just to observe but by the end I was swaying my head and participating. The guy that had invited me was someone I used to have a lot of religious arguments with. Afterwards we became friendly.
Going around the country I have met all sorts of American Sufis. When I was in college a former hippie once came to lecture some of us and talked about the purification of the heart and how to avoid all the "new-age" Sufis. I also maintain correspondence with a Sufi from the Shia tradition. He is unique because unlike most of the placid and restrained mystics I've met, he tends to lose his temper very quickly. I have almost met a number of individuals that have made a close study of Ibn Arabi, a Spanish mystic whose ideas about the unity of creation evoke Neruda and Whitman.
To me, the most interesting thing about Sufism is its paradoxical place in my life. Somehow, for all of my stuttering, stammering, rationalizing, sometimes authentic, mostly sinful, always perplexed approach to faith, it has been these austere Sufis, with their stentorian obeisance to a higher principle, their complete surrender to the authority of a saintly figure, their often pre-modern outlook, who have been most inclined to embrace me without asking questions. They retain a view towards chaos of the world that is not merely hopeful, but outright cheerful, a smile stretched eternally onto the face of the faith. For all of us melancholics and obsessives and loners and miscreants, with our spiritual gastroenteritis and Nietzschean dyspepsia, the existence of the Sufis is thoroughly soothing, even if we never join their orders or learn their prayers.
As for the electronica loving whirling dervish, I am still trying to meet her.
Ali Eteraz, author of "Children of Dust: A Memoir of Pakistan", was born in Pakistan and has lived in the Middle East, the Caribbean, and the United States. A graduate of Emory University and Temple Law School, he was selected for the Outstanding Scholar's Program at the United States Department of Justice and later worked in corporate litigation in Manhattan. His blog in the Islamosphere received nearly two million views as well as a Brass Crescent award for originality.
http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfa ... _face.html
Sufi Soul, The Mystic Music of Islam
A documentary film by Simon Broughton and William Dalrymple. Post-discussion led by Dr. Hussein Rashid.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 11
Time: 7:00pm - 9:00pm
Cost: Free; reservations required.
The mystical sounds of Islam communicating messages of peace, tolerance and love are reverently captured in the documentary film Sufi Soul by Simon Broughton and William Dalrymple. Sufis believe that it is possible to embrace the Divine Presence through individual restoration. For Sufi followers, music is a way of getting closer to God. This film traces the shared roots of Christianity and Islam in the Middle East and discovers Sufism to be a peaceful and pluralistic bastion with a worldwide following. It features many acclaimed performers, including Abida Parveen and Youssou N’Dour as well as Sain Zahoor, The Galata Mevlevi Ensemble, Kudsi Erguner, Mercan Dede, Goonga and Mithu Sain, Rahat Fateh Ali Khan and Abdennbi Zizi. Filmmaker Simon Broughton is editor of the world music magazine Songlines – a leader in its field. William Dalrymple is a historian, writer, broadcaster, and founder of Asia’s largest literary festival.
Dr. Hussein Rashid will lead a post-discussion of Sufi musical history, providing a new avenue for the public to appreciate and understand the history of the mystic music of Islam. He received his Ph.D. from Harvard University and is a passionate instructor at one of the largest interfaith centers in Manhattan.
Presented and sponsored by the Aga Khan Council for the Western United States and the Skirball Cultural Center. The Aga Khan, Imam (spiritual leader) of Shia Ismaili Muslims, urges that the “clash of ignorance” between non-Muslims and Muslims be addressed through education and exposure. This film is an example of such shared learning.
http://www.festivalofsacredmusic.org/ev ... usic-islam
A documentary film by Simon Broughton and William Dalrymple. Post-discussion led by Dr. Hussein Rashid.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 11
Time: 7:00pm - 9:00pm
Cost: Free; reservations required.
The mystical sounds of Islam communicating messages of peace, tolerance and love are reverently captured in the documentary film Sufi Soul by Simon Broughton and William Dalrymple. Sufis believe that it is possible to embrace the Divine Presence through individual restoration. For Sufi followers, music is a way of getting closer to God. This film traces the shared roots of Christianity and Islam in the Middle East and discovers Sufism to be a peaceful and pluralistic bastion with a worldwide following. It features many acclaimed performers, including Abida Parveen and Youssou N’Dour as well as Sain Zahoor, The Galata Mevlevi Ensemble, Kudsi Erguner, Mercan Dede, Goonga and Mithu Sain, Rahat Fateh Ali Khan and Abdennbi Zizi. Filmmaker Simon Broughton is editor of the world music magazine Songlines – a leader in its field. William Dalrymple is a historian, writer, broadcaster, and founder of Asia’s largest literary festival.
Dr. Hussein Rashid will lead a post-discussion of Sufi musical history, providing a new avenue for the public to appreciate and understand the history of the mystic music of Islam. He received his Ph.D. from Harvard University and is a passionate instructor at one of the largest interfaith centers in Manhattan.
Presented and sponsored by the Aga Khan Council for the Western United States and the Skirball Cultural Center. The Aga Khan, Imam (spiritual leader) of Shia Ismaili Muslims, urges that the “clash of ignorance” between non-Muslims and Muslims be addressed through education and exposure. This film is an example of such shared learning.
http://www.festivalofsacredmusic.org/ev ... usic-islam
]The Sufi Spirit
Prayer that brings a permanent awareness of the Divine Reality is the aim of Sufism first and foremost, which London based Sufi scholar, Reza Shah-Kazemi, believes is the key to its universality. Sufism's mystical universalism is what interests Hebrew University scholar, Sara Sviri, who reveals the fascinating phenomenon of 'Jewish Sufism'.
http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/pro ... it/3686180
Prayer that brings a permanent awareness of the Divine Reality is the aim of Sufism first and foremost, which London based Sufi scholar, Reza Shah-Kazemi, believes is the key to its universality. Sufism's mystical universalism is what interests Hebrew University scholar, Sara Sviri, who reveals the fascinating phenomenon of 'Jewish Sufism'.
http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/pro ... it/3686180
One and Many: The pluralistic expressions In Sufi poetry
By: Raheel Lakhani, Uploaded: 11th June 2012
http://blogs.aaj.tv/2012/06/one-and-man ... fi-poetry/
By: Raheel Lakhani, Uploaded: 11th June 2012
http://blogs.aaj.tv/2012/06/one-and-man ... fi-poetry/
Sufism aims the individual to a spiritual awakening through prayer and devotion
The term sufi, from the Arabic suf is thought to have been derived in the eight century to refer to those who wore coarse woollen garments. Gradually it came to be designated to a group of those who differentiated themselves by stressing certain teachings of the Qur’an and the sunnah. By the ninth century, the term tasawwuff (literally “being a Sufi”) was adopted by some representatives of this group as a designation of their beliefs and practices.
Sufism developed as a reaction against the worldliness of the early Umayyad period (661-749), stressing contemplation and spiritual development. Sufism aimed the individual to gain a deep knowledge of God’s will, therefore, seekers had to embrace a path of devotion and prayer that would lead to a spiritual awakening. Thus, the sharia has a counterpart, the tariqa (‘way’), the journey and discipline undertaken by the Sufi in the quest for the knowledge of God.
Beggar’s bowl (kashkul), dated 18th century Iran, carried by a Sufi dervish as a sign of renouncing all worldly possessions. The upper band of inscription contains the Nad-e ‘Ali, the devotional prayer to ‘Ali. (Image: Aga Khan Museum)
In the early stages, Sufism developed into a system of mystical orders, named after their founding teachers, but tracing their spiritual genealogy to the teachings of Prophet Muhammad and Ali Ibn Abi Talib, who they considered to have been endowed with the special mission of explaining the esoteric teachings of the Qur’an. Sufi masters were known as pirs or murshids, while the followers were known as murids, and were bound to the murshid by the baya, oath of allegiance.
Access to the normative, textual Islam based on the Qur’an, hadith, fiqh (jurisprudence), tafsir (hermeneutics) required the knowledge of Arabic, restricting its appeal. The Sufi masters were able to convey Islamic teachings in local languages. The Sufi dhikrs, ceremonies in remembrance of God derived from the Qurʾānic injunction “And remember God often” (sura 62, verse 10), developed spiritual techniques that meshed with practices from local traditions such as ritual dances and controlled yoga-style breathing.
Sufism was influential in spreading Islam to sub-Saharan and West Africa in the ninth to eleventh centuries, where they spread along trade routes. Organized Sufism, however, was consolidated in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, gaining ground rapidly in Asia in the aftermath of the Mongol invasions. Sufism was taken to China in the seventeenth century by Ma Laichi and other Sufis who had studied in Mecca and were influenced by the descendants of the Sufi master Afaq Khoja (1626-1694), a religious and political leader in Kashgaria (present day southern Xinjiang, China).
Manuscript of the Mathnavi of Rumi, dated 1602 Iran (Aga Khan Museum)
The mystic writings of the Persian poet Jalāl al-Dīn al-Rūmī (1207–73), also called by the honorific title Mawlānā are generally considered to be the supreme expression of Sufism. After his death, his disciples were organized as the Mawlawīyah (or Mehlevi) order, commonly known as the Whirling Dervishes due to their practice of whirling while performing the dhikr.
The Persian poet Farīd al-Dīn ʿAṭṭār Attar, who authored the finest spiritual parable in the Persian language, The Concourse of the Birds, was one of the greatest Sufi writers and thinkers, composing many brilliant prose works.
Nizari Ismailism and Persian Sufism developed a close relationship after the fall of the state of Alamut in 1256. For the first two centuries after the fall, the Imams remained inaccessible to the community in order to avoid persecution. The community concealed their identity under the mantle of Sufism without establishing formal affiliations with any particular Sufi tariqas that were spreading in Persia and Central Asia. At the same time, Sufis employed the batini tawil or esoteric teachings more widely ascribed to the Ismailis. The Nizari Ismaili Imams, who were still obliged to hide their identities, appeared to outsiders as murshids, often adopting Sufi names such as Shah Qalandar adopted by Imam Mustansir bi’llah II (d. 1480).
Sources:
Malise Ruthven, Azim Nanji, Sufi Orders 1100-1900, Historical Atlas of the Islamic World, Cartographica Limited 2004
Azim Nanji, Dictionary of Islam, Penguin Books, 2008
Sufism, Encyclopaedia Britannica (Accessed October 2015)
Compiled by Nimira Dewji
https://ismailimail.wordpress.com/2015/ ... -devotion/
The term sufi, from the Arabic suf is thought to have been derived in the eight century to refer to those who wore coarse woollen garments. Gradually it came to be designated to a group of those who differentiated themselves by stressing certain teachings of the Qur’an and the sunnah. By the ninth century, the term tasawwuff (literally “being a Sufi”) was adopted by some representatives of this group as a designation of their beliefs and practices.
Sufism developed as a reaction against the worldliness of the early Umayyad period (661-749), stressing contemplation and spiritual development. Sufism aimed the individual to gain a deep knowledge of God’s will, therefore, seekers had to embrace a path of devotion and prayer that would lead to a spiritual awakening. Thus, the sharia has a counterpart, the tariqa (‘way’), the journey and discipline undertaken by the Sufi in the quest for the knowledge of God.
Beggar’s bowl (kashkul), dated 18th century Iran, carried by a Sufi dervish as a sign of renouncing all worldly possessions. The upper band of inscription contains the Nad-e ‘Ali, the devotional prayer to ‘Ali. (Image: Aga Khan Museum)
In the early stages, Sufism developed into a system of mystical orders, named after their founding teachers, but tracing their spiritual genealogy to the teachings of Prophet Muhammad and Ali Ibn Abi Talib, who they considered to have been endowed with the special mission of explaining the esoteric teachings of the Qur’an. Sufi masters were known as pirs or murshids, while the followers were known as murids, and were bound to the murshid by the baya, oath of allegiance.
Access to the normative, textual Islam based on the Qur’an, hadith, fiqh (jurisprudence), tafsir (hermeneutics) required the knowledge of Arabic, restricting its appeal. The Sufi masters were able to convey Islamic teachings in local languages. The Sufi dhikrs, ceremonies in remembrance of God derived from the Qurʾānic injunction “And remember God often” (sura 62, verse 10), developed spiritual techniques that meshed with practices from local traditions such as ritual dances and controlled yoga-style breathing.
Sufism was influential in spreading Islam to sub-Saharan and West Africa in the ninth to eleventh centuries, where they spread along trade routes. Organized Sufism, however, was consolidated in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, gaining ground rapidly in Asia in the aftermath of the Mongol invasions. Sufism was taken to China in the seventeenth century by Ma Laichi and other Sufis who had studied in Mecca and were influenced by the descendants of the Sufi master Afaq Khoja (1626-1694), a religious and political leader in Kashgaria (present day southern Xinjiang, China).
Manuscript of the Mathnavi of Rumi, dated 1602 Iran (Aga Khan Museum)
The mystic writings of the Persian poet Jalāl al-Dīn al-Rūmī (1207–73), also called by the honorific title Mawlānā are generally considered to be the supreme expression of Sufism. After his death, his disciples were organized as the Mawlawīyah (or Mehlevi) order, commonly known as the Whirling Dervishes due to their practice of whirling while performing the dhikr.
The Persian poet Farīd al-Dīn ʿAṭṭār Attar, who authored the finest spiritual parable in the Persian language, The Concourse of the Birds, was one of the greatest Sufi writers and thinkers, composing many brilliant prose works.
Nizari Ismailism and Persian Sufism developed a close relationship after the fall of the state of Alamut in 1256. For the first two centuries after the fall, the Imams remained inaccessible to the community in order to avoid persecution. The community concealed their identity under the mantle of Sufism without establishing formal affiliations with any particular Sufi tariqas that were spreading in Persia and Central Asia. At the same time, Sufis employed the batini tawil or esoteric teachings more widely ascribed to the Ismailis. The Nizari Ismaili Imams, who were still obliged to hide their identities, appeared to outsiders as murshids, often adopting Sufi names such as Shah Qalandar adopted by Imam Mustansir bi’llah II (d. 1480).
Sources:
Malise Ruthven, Azim Nanji, Sufi Orders 1100-1900, Historical Atlas of the Islamic World, Cartographica Limited 2004
Azim Nanji, Dictionary of Islam, Penguin Books, 2008
Sufism, Encyclopaedia Britannica (Accessed October 2015)
Compiled by Nimira Dewji
https://ismailimail.wordpress.com/2015/ ... -devotion/
Presented by the Aga Khan Council for the Southeast and Emory Muslim Student Association, Dr. Scott Kugle, associate professor at Emory, will present the topic on Sufism. You are invited to explore the historical, political, and sociological role Sufism has played within Muslim empires and dynasties. There will be time for Q&A towards the end.
www.facebook.com/events/1491721537790446/
About: Scott SIRAJ AL-HAQQ Kugle pursues research about Islamic religion and civilization especially in South Asia and the Arab World, focusing on mysticism, literature and ethics. He teaches courses on gender and sexuality in Islamic contexts. He is the author of "Homosexuality in Islam: Critical Reflections on Gay, Lesbian and Transgender Muslims" and other articles about contemporary identity debates regarding sexuality, diversity and Islam.
He received his PhD from Duke University in 2000 in History of Religions after graduating from Swarthmore College with High Honors in Religion, Literature, and History. His dissertation, In Search of the Center: Authenticity, Reform and Critique in Early Modern Islamic Sainthood, examined Sufism in North Africa and South Asia. His fields of expertise include Sufism, Islamic society in South Asia, and issues of gender and sexuality. He is the author of four books and numerous articles, including Sufis and Saints' Bodies: Mysticism, Corporeality and Sacred Power in Islamic Culture (UNC Press, 2007) and Homosexuality in Islam: Critical Reflection on Gay, Lesbian and Transgender Muslims (Oneworld Publications, 2010). He conducts research in India and Pakistan; his research languages are Arabic, Urdu, and Persian. Before coming to Emory, Kugle was an Assistant Professor of Religion at Swarthmore College and, most recently, a research scholar at the Henry Martyn Institute for Islamic Studies, Inter-Religious Dialogue, and Conflict Resolution in Hyderabad, India.
www.facebook.com/events/1491721537790446/
About: Scott SIRAJ AL-HAQQ Kugle pursues research about Islamic religion and civilization especially in South Asia and the Arab World, focusing on mysticism, literature and ethics. He teaches courses on gender and sexuality in Islamic contexts. He is the author of "Homosexuality in Islam: Critical Reflections on Gay, Lesbian and Transgender Muslims" and other articles about contemporary identity debates regarding sexuality, diversity and Islam.
He received his PhD from Duke University in 2000 in History of Religions after graduating from Swarthmore College with High Honors in Religion, Literature, and History. His dissertation, In Search of the Center: Authenticity, Reform and Critique in Early Modern Islamic Sainthood, examined Sufism in North Africa and South Asia. His fields of expertise include Sufism, Islamic society in South Asia, and issues of gender and sexuality. He is the author of four books and numerous articles, including Sufis and Saints' Bodies: Mysticism, Corporeality and Sacred Power in Islamic Culture (UNC Press, 2007) and Homosexuality in Islam: Critical Reflection on Gay, Lesbian and Transgender Muslims (Oneworld Publications, 2010). He conducts research in India and Pakistan; his research languages are Arabic, Urdu, and Persian. Before coming to Emory, Kugle was an Assistant Professor of Religion at Swarthmore College and, most recently, a research scholar at the Henry Martyn Institute for Islamic Studies, Inter-Religious Dialogue, and Conflict Resolution in Hyderabad, India.
Just as the Sufis honored all traditions, seeing each as a path leading to the highest truth, they also honored the prophets of these traditions. They looked upon each for guidance and inspiration. Many Sufis, including the great Mansur al-Hallaj, idealized Jesus as the embodiment of perfect love; they built their philosophy around him, rather than the Prophet. The renowned Sufi saint Junayd gives this prescription for Sufi practice based on the lives of the prophets:
Sufism is founded on the eight qualities exemplified by the eight prophets: The generosity of Abraham, who was willing to sacrifice his son. The surrender of Ishmael, who submitted to the command of God and gave up his dear life. The patience of Job, who endured the affliction of worms and the jealousy of the Merciful. The mystery of Zacharias, to whom God said, “Thou shalt not speak unto men for three days save by sign.” The solitude of John, who was a stranger in his own country and an alien to his own kind. The detachment of Jesus, who was so removed from worldly things that he kept only a cup and a comb—the cup he threw away when he saw a man drinking in the palms of his hand, and the comb likewise when he saw another man using his fingers instead of a comb. The wearing of wool by Moses, whose garment was woolen. And the poverty of Muhammad, to whom God sent the key of all treasures that are upon the face of the earth.
Excerpted from Rumi: In the Arms of the Beloved Translations by
Jonathan Star
Sufism is founded on the eight qualities exemplified by the eight prophets: The generosity of Abraham, who was willing to sacrifice his son. The surrender of Ishmael, who submitted to the command of God and gave up his dear life. The patience of Job, who endured the affliction of worms and the jealousy of the Merciful. The mystery of Zacharias, to whom God said, “Thou shalt not speak unto men for three days save by sign.” The solitude of John, who was a stranger in his own country and an alien to his own kind. The detachment of Jesus, who was so removed from worldly things that he kept only a cup and a comb—the cup he threw away when he saw a man drinking in the palms of his hand, and the comb likewise when he saw another man using his fingers instead of a comb. The wearing of wool by Moses, whose garment was woolen. And the poverty of Muhammad, to whom God sent the key of all treasures that are upon the face of the earth.
Excerpted from Rumi: In the Arms of the Beloved Translations by
Jonathan Star
Love Language: The Inter-Spiritual Heart of the Mystics
– From “Mira the Bee”
For decades I was conditioned to believe that to engage a mature spiritual life I needed to “pick one tradition and go deep,” which implied that my attraction to the teachings and practices at the heart of all religions was superficial and indolent. Also, that the path of non-dualism—with its affirmation of undifferentiated consciousness—was superior to my devotional disposition. Also, that my experience of longing for God was an illusion—some kind of unconscious blend of unresolved childhood abandonment and magical thinking. In other words, the energy that fueled my journey was predicated on a perfect storm of delusional inclinations.
It was only when the fire of loss swept into my life and burned the scaffolding to the ground that all conceptual constructs came tumbling down and these insidious messages revealed themselves as 1) unkind, and 2) untrue. From the ashes of grief a transfigured, more authentic self began to rise, and she felt no obligation to choose sides. She was a Jew and a Sufi, a believer and an agnostic. She practiced Vipassana and Centering Prayer, observed Shabbat and received communion. She rested in blessed moments of unitive consciousness and sang the praises of Lord Krishna.
I am not alone. A tribe of people is coalescing around the world to celebrate a reorientation from religious separation to interspiritual connection. While many of us have been pilgrims on this path for decades—sometimes feeling alone in the wilderness, sometimes gathering with other seekers who are similarly drawn to worshipping the sacred in every single holy house we encounter–now, at last, our numbers seem to be reaching a tipping point and what was a fringe phenomenon is becoming a global movement.
The interspiritual path is characterized as much by what it is not as what it is. It is not a new religion; in fact many of its most enthusiastic adherents consider themselves “spiritual but not religious.” It has no creed or dogma, no tenets or prohibitions. No special attire sets it apart and no single symbol represents its core philosophy. Its membership is as diverse as the full spectrum of humanity. It is not about belief, but action. And the only action required is love.
The mystics of every tradition—and those whose hearts thrum with yearning for God but do not have any religious affiliation–embody this Way of Love. The language the mystics speak is the Language of Love. Drenched in love-longing, the mystic dissolves into the ocean of the One. Mystical poetry transcends theological distinctions and neutralizes ideological ultimatums. These love poems to God do not describe Ultimate Reality: they evoke it. The poems of the mystics slip past the thought-guardians and batter down the gates of the heart. In crying out to the Holy One, the ecstatic poets offer us a direct connection with the object of their souls’ deepest desire, and ours. Mystical poetry generates a sacred field, and invites us to step in.
See if these snippets knock on your heart-door:
This longing is dear to me.
This longing makes every place sacred.
This longing,
Too large for heaven and earth,
Fits inside my heart,
Smaller than the eye of a needle.
(Rumi)i
When he spoke my soul vanished.
I look for him and can’t find him.
I call, he doesn’t answer…
I beg you, daughters of Jerusalem,
If you find my love
You will say that I am sick with love.
(Song of Songs)ii
All night I could not sleep
Because of the moonlight on my bed.
I kept on hearing a voice calling:
Out of Nowhere, Nothing answered “yes.”
(Zi Ye)iii
Oh, living flame of love,
how tenderly you penetrate
the deepest core of my being!
Finish what you began.
Tear the veil from this sweet encounter.
(John of the Cross)iv
Listen, my friend,
This road is the heart opening,
Kissing his feet,
Resistance broken, tears all night.
(Mirabai)v
… and finally, insane for the light,
you are the butterfly and you are gone.
And so long as you have not experienced this:
To die and so to grow,
You are only a troubled guest on the dark earth.
(Goethe)vi
The highest calling of the mystic is not to become enlightened, but rather to become nothing, to utterly disappear into the One. What madness! And yet the mystical path is all about paradox. When lover merges with Beloved, all separation melts and only love remains; there is no one left to long nor any object of longing, and this, to the mystic, is good news. Mystics claim their experience of union is ineffable, and yet they cannot resist expressing their encounter in lush poetic language. Mysticism is characterized by annihilation: the soul is the moth inexorably drawn to the flame. In burning to death, lover is transformed in Beloved, individual self yields to its oneness with the Divine, the dream of exile ends and the spirit comes home to its source.
It is here, in the center of the perennial paradox, that it becomes obvious all spiritual paths emanate from and return to the same universal heart. This is where the only possible response to the quiet blessing of union with the One is the passionate outpouring of love-language. Here, longing for God is not a malady to be cured or a broken thing that needs repairing, but a shattering of the cup of the heart so that, within the vast spaciousness that opens, the Mystery may come pouring in and lift us into the arms of Love itself.
img_mirabai-starrBio: Mirabai Starr writes, speaks and leads retreats on the inter-spiritual teachings of the mystics. Known for her revolutionary translations of John of the Cross, Teresa of Avila, and Julian of Norwich, Mirabai renders mystical masterpieces accessible, beautiful, and relevant to a contemporary circle of seekers. Her commentaries on the interconnected wisdom of all traditions are lyrical and evocative. Mirabai builds bridges not only between religious traditions, but also between contemplative life and compassionate service, between cultivating an inner relationship with the Beloved and expressing that intimacy in community, between the transformational power of loss and longing for the sacred.
https://www.scienceandnonduality.com/lo ... e-mystics/[/b]
– From “Mira the Bee”
For decades I was conditioned to believe that to engage a mature spiritual life I needed to “pick one tradition and go deep,” which implied that my attraction to the teachings and practices at the heart of all religions was superficial and indolent. Also, that the path of non-dualism—with its affirmation of undifferentiated consciousness—was superior to my devotional disposition. Also, that my experience of longing for God was an illusion—some kind of unconscious blend of unresolved childhood abandonment and magical thinking. In other words, the energy that fueled my journey was predicated on a perfect storm of delusional inclinations.
It was only when the fire of loss swept into my life and burned the scaffolding to the ground that all conceptual constructs came tumbling down and these insidious messages revealed themselves as 1) unkind, and 2) untrue. From the ashes of grief a transfigured, more authentic self began to rise, and she felt no obligation to choose sides. She was a Jew and a Sufi, a believer and an agnostic. She practiced Vipassana and Centering Prayer, observed Shabbat and received communion. She rested in blessed moments of unitive consciousness and sang the praises of Lord Krishna.
I am not alone. A tribe of people is coalescing around the world to celebrate a reorientation from religious separation to interspiritual connection. While many of us have been pilgrims on this path for decades—sometimes feeling alone in the wilderness, sometimes gathering with other seekers who are similarly drawn to worshipping the sacred in every single holy house we encounter–now, at last, our numbers seem to be reaching a tipping point and what was a fringe phenomenon is becoming a global movement.
The interspiritual path is characterized as much by what it is not as what it is. It is not a new religion; in fact many of its most enthusiastic adherents consider themselves “spiritual but not religious.” It has no creed or dogma, no tenets or prohibitions. No special attire sets it apart and no single symbol represents its core philosophy. Its membership is as diverse as the full spectrum of humanity. It is not about belief, but action. And the only action required is love.
The mystics of every tradition—and those whose hearts thrum with yearning for God but do not have any religious affiliation–embody this Way of Love. The language the mystics speak is the Language of Love. Drenched in love-longing, the mystic dissolves into the ocean of the One. Mystical poetry transcends theological distinctions and neutralizes ideological ultimatums. These love poems to God do not describe Ultimate Reality: they evoke it. The poems of the mystics slip past the thought-guardians and batter down the gates of the heart. In crying out to the Holy One, the ecstatic poets offer us a direct connection with the object of their souls’ deepest desire, and ours. Mystical poetry generates a sacred field, and invites us to step in.
See if these snippets knock on your heart-door:
This longing is dear to me.
This longing makes every place sacred.
This longing,
Too large for heaven and earth,
Fits inside my heart,
Smaller than the eye of a needle.
(Rumi)i
When he spoke my soul vanished.
I look for him and can’t find him.
I call, he doesn’t answer…
I beg you, daughters of Jerusalem,
If you find my love
You will say that I am sick with love.
(Song of Songs)ii
All night I could not sleep
Because of the moonlight on my bed.
I kept on hearing a voice calling:
Out of Nowhere, Nothing answered “yes.”
(Zi Ye)iii
Oh, living flame of love,
how tenderly you penetrate
the deepest core of my being!
Finish what you began.
Tear the veil from this sweet encounter.
(John of the Cross)iv
Listen, my friend,
This road is the heart opening,
Kissing his feet,
Resistance broken, tears all night.
(Mirabai)v
… and finally, insane for the light,
you are the butterfly and you are gone.
And so long as you have not experienced this:
To die and so to grow,
You are only a troubled guest on the dark earth.
(Goethe)vi
The highest calling of the mystic is not to become enlightened, but rather to become nothing, to utterly disappear into the One. What madness! And yet the mystical path is all about paradox. When lover merges with Beloved, all separation melts and only love remains; there is no one left to long nor any object of longing, and this, to the mystic, is good news. Mystics claim their experience of union is ineffable, and yet they cannot resist expressing their encounter in lush poetic language. Mysticism is characterized by annihilation: the soul is the moth inexorably drawn to the flame. In burning to death, lover is transformed in Beloved, individual self yields to its oneness with the Divine, the dream of exile ends and the spirit comes home to its source.
It is here, in the center of the perennial paradox, that it becomes obvious all spiritual paths emanate from and return to the same universal heart. This is where the only possible response to the quiet blessing of union with the One is the passionate outpouring of love-language. Here, longing for God is not a malady to be cured or a broken thing that needs repairing, but a shattering of the cup of the heart so that, within the vast spaciousness that opens, the Mystery may come pouring in and lift us into the arms of Love itself.
img_mirabai-starrBio: Mirabai Starr writes, speaks and leads retreats on the inter-spiritual teachings of the mystics. Known for her revolutionary translations of John of the Cross, Teresa of Avila, and Julian of Norwich, Mirabai renders mystical masterpieces accessible, beautiful, and relevant to a contemporary circle of seekers. Her commentaries on the interconnected wisdom of all traditions are lyrical and evocative. Mirabai builds bridges not only between religious traditions, but also between contemplative life and compassionate service, between cultivating an inner relationship with the Beloved and expressing that intimacy in community, between the transformational power of loss and longing for the sacred.
https://www.scienceandnonduality.com/lo ... e-mystics/[/b]
ISIS Hates Our Saint Because He Belongs to Everyone
LONDON — Last Thursday a suicide bomber affiliated with the so-called Islamic State attacked Sehwan Sharif, one of the most revered Sufi shrines, in the southern Sindh Province of Pakistan, killing more than 80 people, including 24 children, and wounding more than 250.
Why the terrorists hate Sehwan is why we love it. The saint and his shrine at Sehwan belong to everyone, to Sunnis and Shiites, to Hindus and Muslims, transgender devotees, to believers and questioners alike. The inclusiveness, the rituals and music born of syncretic roots make shrines like Sehwan Sharif targets in the extremist interpretations of the Islamic State and other radical Wahhabi militants.
As a child in the late 1980s and early ’90s, I would visit the town of Sehwan with my family on our way from Karachi to Larkana, my family’s hometown. After driving along bumpy roads deserted but for palm trees and solitary men standing on the open highways selling lotus flower seeds, we would stop near the western bank of the Indus River to visit the shrine of Sehwan’s patron saint, Lal Shahbaz Qalandar, a 13th-century Persian mystic and poet who was a contemporary of Rumi.
Qalandar, whose real name was Syed Mohammad Usman Marwandi, is adored in music and poetry as the Red Falcon. As you drive through the narrow, dusty streets of Sehwan, the air becomes perfumed with the scent of roses, sold in small plastic bags and body-length garlands that devotees lay at his tomb.
I was 7 when I first saw Sehwan during Ashura, when Shiites mourn the Prophet Muhammad’s grandson Hussain, who was killed in 680 by an unjust ruler at Karbala, in what is now Iraq.
I remember thousands of men and women together in collective, ritualized mourning in the courtyard of Lal Shahbaz Qalandar’s shrine. They walked barefoot over glass and the embers of burning cigarette butts, their black shalwar kameez drenched in sweat, their palms striking their chests rhythmically. Even as a 7-year-old, I found something hypnotic, something fierce, something pure about Sehwan.
Over the years, I kept returning to Sehwan to sit in that courtyard, the shrine illuminated by red and green fairy lights, its golden dome and turquoise minarets soaring above a town of modest roofs.
The cool tiled floor of the shrine is often carpeted with devotees, some carrying tiffins of food on outings with their children, others in fraying and torn shalwar kameez prostrate in prayer. Even wealthy urbanites visit to lay their anxieties at the feet of the buried saint, tiptoeing gingerly through the crowds. In a country built and maintained on immovable divisions of ethnicity, gender, class and belief, the shrine at Sehwan welcomed all. It was an egalitarian oasis formed by the legacies and practice of Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism merging into one.
On Thursday evenings people congregate to listen to the religious songs called qawwali and perform a devotional dance, dhamal. They arrive with offerings of bruised rose petals, sugared almonds and what money they can spare. They seek solace from their pain; pray for safety in a harsh, unjust world; beg for an answer to a forgotten prayer. Those who can’t offer anything arrive empty-handed. Sehwan’s shrine promised the weak, the worried and the poor that they would always be safe here.
Every time we visited the shrine, a deaf and mute man named Goonga welcomed my brother, Zulfi, and me. A servant and a guardian of the shrine, Goonga wore his hair in a turban and had a matted beard. On the breast pocket of his shalwar kameez, he sometimes wore a picture of Hussain. Goonga would walk us through the shrine that was his home and refuge.
In the courtyard of the shrine, men in flowing robes and long dreadlocks sing:
Shahbaz Qalandar - Qawwali journey to Sehwan Sharif with Fanna-Fi-Allah Video by Tahir Faridi Qawwal
O laal meri pat rakhio bala Jhoole Laalan,
Sindhri da Sehwan da, sakhi Shahbaaz Qalandar,
Dama dam mast Qalandar,
which translates to:
O red-robed, protect me always, Jhule Lal,
Friend of Sindh, of Sehwan, God-intoxicated Qalandar,
Every breath intoxicated by you, Qalandar.
No matter how far from Sehwan I have traveled, how far from lands where Urdu is spoken and heard, just to hear “Dama dam mast Qalandar” is to be transported home.
My brother called me after the attack on the shrine. “Goonga,” he asked. “Is he alive?” We were trying to find out. But no one had seen Goonga since the blast. We Pakistanis always believed our saints protected us. In Karachi, where we live by the sea, we believe that the shrine of Abdullah Shah Ghazi, overlooking the Arabian Sea shore, saved the city from cyclones and tsunamis.
Before Qalandar arrived here, before Islam came to the subcontinent, Sehwan was known as Shivistan after the Hindu god Shiva. In time, the town’s name was changed, but Sindh has long remained a home to all faiths. At the annual festival of Qalandar, a Hindu and a Muslim family together drape a ceremonial cloth over Qalandar’s grave. A lamp-lighting ceremony reminiscent of Hindu rites is also performed.
The shrine in Sehwan was attacked because it belongs to an open, inclusive tradition that some in Pakistan would rather forget than honor. Though it was founded as a sanctuary for Muslims, in its early incarnation, Pakistan was a home for all those who wished to claim it. Parsis, Sikhs, Christians and Jews remained in Pakistan after the bloody Partition in 1947.
Gen. Mohammad Zia ul-Haq, Pakistan’s brutal military dictator in the 1980s, aided by Saudi money and supported by the United States, destroyed Pakistan’s progressive, syncretic culture. In the 11 years that General Zia presided over Pakistan, our textbooks were rewritten, exclusionary, intolerant laws were passed, and primacy was given to the bearers of a closed, violent worldview. Pakistan never recovered. Only pockets of the country still imbibe the generous welcome once afforded to all faiths. Sehwan is one of them.
After the attack, Pakistan’s military closed the border with Afghanistan and complained that the attackers had been given haven in Afghanistan. In retaliation, 100 people accused of being terrorists have been killed by the military.
Sehwan has no proper hospital, no trauma centers. For all its historical, religious and cultural significance, it was — like so much of this wounded country — abandoned by those who rule the province. There is no real governance here, no justice and no order. For life’s basic necessities, people must supplicate themselves before dead saints.
On the morning after the blast, the caretaker rang the bell, just as he always had. Devotees broke through the police cordons and returned to dance the dhamal on Saturday. Zulfi texted, “Goonga is alive.”
On my last visit to the shrine, after Goonga walked me through the crowded marketplace selling food and offerings, I sat on the floor besides a mother who had brought her son, crippled with polio, in the hopes that her prayers would ease his suffering. I had come to the shrine to see the blue and white floral kashi tiles, to walk around the perimeter and to be in a part of Pakistan that still operated on that rarest of currencies: hope.
Fatima Bhutto is the author of the memoir “Songs of Blood and Sword,” about the Bhutto political family, and the novel “Shadow of the Crescent Moon.”
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/02/23/opin ... &te=1&_r=0
LONDON — Last Thursday a suicide bomber affiliated with the so-called Islamic State attacked Sehwan Sharif, one of the most revered Sufi shrines, in the southern Sindh Province of Pakistan, killing more than 80 people, including 24 children, and wounding more than 250.
Why the terrorists hate Sehwan is why we love it. The saint and his shrine at Sehwan belong to everyone, to Sunnis and Shiites, to Hindus and Muslims, transgender devotees, to believers and questioners alike. The inclusiveness, the rituals and music born of syncretic roots make shrines like Sehwan Sharif targets in the extremist interpretations of the Islamic State and other radical Wahhabi militants.
As a child in the late 1980s and early ’90s, I would visit the town of Sehwan with my family on our way from Karachi to Larkana, my family’s hometown. After driving along bumpy roads deserted but for palm trees and solitary men standing on the open highways selling lotus flower seeds, we would stop near the western bank of the Indus River to visit the shrine of Sehwan’s patron saint, Lal Shahbaz Qalandar, a 13th-century Persian mystic and poet who was a contemporary of Rumi.
Qalandar, whose real name was Syed Mohammad Usman Marwandi, is adored in music and poetry as the Red Falcon. As you drive through the narrow, dusty streets of Sehwan, the air becomes perfumed with the scent of roses, sold in small plastic bags and body-length garlands that devotees lay at his tomb.
I was 7 when I first saw Sehwan during Ashura, when Shiites mourn the Prophet Muhammad’s grandson Hussain, who was killed in 680 by an unjust ruler at Karbala, in what is now Iraq.
I remember thousands of men and women together in collective, ritualized mourning in the courtyard of Lal Shahbaz Qalandar’s shrine. They walked barefoot over glass and the embers of burning cigarette butts, their black shalwar kameez drenched in sweat, their palms striking their chests rhythmically. Even as a 7-year-old, I found something hypnotic, something fierce, something pure about Sehwan.
Over the years, I kept returning to Sehwan to sit in that courtyard, the shrine illuminated by red and green fairy lights, its golden dome and turquoise minarets soaring above a town of modest roofs.
The cool tiled floor of the shrine is often carpeted with devotees, some carrying tiffins of food on outings with their children, others in fraying and torn shalwar kameez prostrate in prayer. Even wealthy urbanites visit to lay their anxieties at the feet of the buried saint, tiptoeing gingerly through the crowds. In a country built and maintained on immovable divisions of ethnicity, gender, class and belief, the shrine at Sehwan welcomed all. It was an egalitarian oasis formed by the legacies and practice of Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism merging into one.
On Thursday evenings people congregate to listen to the religious songs called qawwali and perform a devotional dance, dhamal. They arrive with offerings of bruised rose petals, sugared almonds and what money they can spare. They seek solace from their pain; pray for safety in a harsh, unjust world; beg for an answer to a forgotten prayer. Those who can’t offer anything arrive empty-handed. Sehwan’s shrine promised the weak, the worried and the poor that they would always be safe here.
Every time we visited the shrine, a deaf and mute man named Goonga welcomed my brother, Zulfi, and me. A servant and a guardian of the shrine, Goonga wore his hair in a turban and had a matted beard. On the breast pocket of his shalwar kameez, he sometimes wore a picture of Hussain. Goonga would walk us through the shrine that was his home and refuge.
In the courtyard of the shrine, men in flowing robes and long dreadlocks sing:
Shahbaz Qalandar - Qawwali journey to Sehwan Sharif with Fanna-Fi-Allah Video by Tahir Faridi Qawwal
O laal meri pat rakhio bala Jhoole Laalan,
Sindhri da Sehwan da, sakhi Shahbaaz Qalandar,
Dama dam mast Qalandar,
which translates to:
O red-robed, protect me always, Jhule Lal,
Friend of Sindh, of Sehwan, God-intoxicated Qalandar,
Every breath intoxicated by you, Qalandar.
No matter how far from Sehwan I have traveled, how far from lands where Urdu is spoken and heard, just to hear “Dama dam mast Qalandar” is to be transported home.
My brother called me after the attack on the shrine. “Goonga,” he asked. “Is he alive?” We were trying to find out. But no one had seen Goonga since the blast. We Pakistanis always believed our saints protected us. In Karachi, where we live by the sea, we believe that the shrine of Abdullah Shah Ghazi, overlooking the Arabian Sea shore, saved the city from cyclones and tsunamis.
Before Qalandar arrived here, before Islam came to the subcontinent, Sehwan was known as Shivistan after the Hindu god Shiva. In time, the town’s name was changed, but Sindh has long remained a home to all faiths. At the annual festival of Qalandar, a Hindu and a Muslim family together drape a ceremonial cloth over Qalandar’s grave. A lamp-lighting ceremony reminiscent of Hindu rites is also performed.
The shrine in Sehwan was attacked because it belongs to an open, inclusive tradition that some in Pakistan would rather forget than honor. Though it was founded as a sanctuary for Muslims, in its early incarnation, Pakistan was a home for all those who wished to claim it. Parsis, Sikhs, Christians and Jews remained in Pakistan after the bloody Partition in 1947.
Gen. Mohammad Zia ul-Haq, Pakistan’s brutal military dictator in the 1980s, aided by Saudi money and supported by the United States, destroyed Pakistan’s progressive, syncretic culture. In the 11 years that General Zia presided over Pakistan, our textbooks were rewritten, exclusionary, intolerant laws were passed, and primacy was given to the bearers of a closed, violent worldview. Pakistan never recovered. Only pockets of the country still imbibe the generous welcome once afforded to all faiths. Sehwan is one of them.
After the attack, Pakistan’s military closed the border with Afghanistan and complained that the attackers had been given haven in Afghanistan. In retaliation, 100 people accused of being terrorists have been killed by the military.
Sehwan has no proper hospital, no trauma centers. For all its historical, religious and cultural significance, it was — like so much of this wounded country — abandoned by those who rule the province. There is no real governance here, no justice and no order. For life’s basic necessities, people must supplicate themselves before dead saints.
On the morning after the blast, the caretaker rang the bell, just as he always had. Devotees broke through the police cordons and returned to dance the dhamal on Saturday. Zulfi texted, “Goonga is alive.”
On my last visit to the shrine, after Goonga walked me through the crowded marketplace selling food and offerings, I sat on the floor besides a mother who had brought her son, crippled with polio, in the hopes that her prayers would ease his suffering. I had come to the shrine to see the blue and white floral kashi tiles, to walk around the perimeter and to be in a part of Pakistan that still operated on that rarest of currencies: hope.
Fatima Bhutto is the author of the memoir “Songs of Blood and Sword,” about the Bhutto political family, and the novel “Shadow of the Crescent Moon.”
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/02/23/opin ... &te=1&_r=0
'Sufis first bring people closer to their hearts, then to humanity'
KARACHI: Baba Guru Nanak, the founder of Sikhism, being a Sufi in nature broke the barriers among religions by putting the writings of Baba Farid in Guru Granth Sahib. Later, during the time of the fifth guru, the foundation stone of the Golden Temple was laid by a Muslim sufi saint, Mian Mir, said a writer on Sikhism, Amardeep Singh, who had come from Singapore to attend the ninth Karachi Literature Festival (KLF).
“Being a human first is the true essence of sufism. The philosophy of Vedanta and Sikhism is common to that of Sufism,” he said during a talk on the second day of the KLF in a session titled, ‘Shrines and Sufi Legacy’.
He quoted Baba Guru Nanak, questioning why we call women ‘low’ when they give birth to kings. Singh stated, “There is nothing inferior or superior in men and women.”
More...
https://tribune.com.pk/story/1631628/1- ... -humanity/
KARACHI: Baba Guru Nanak, the founder of Sikhism, being a Sufi in nature broke the barriers among religions by putting the writings of Baba Farid in Guru Granth Sahib. Later, during the time of the fifth guru, the foundation stone of the Golden Temple was laid by a Muslim sufi saint, Mian Mir, said a writer on Sikhism, Amardeep Singh, who had come from Singapore to attend the ninth Karachi Literature Festival (KLF).
“Being a human first is the true essence of sufism. The philosophy of Vedanta and Sikhism is common to that of Sufism,” he said during a talk on the second day of the KLF in a session titled, ‘Shrines and Sufi Legacy’.
He quoted Baba Guru Nanak, questioning why we call women ‘low’ when they give birth to kings. Singh stated, “There is nothing inferior or superior in men and women.”
More...
https://tribune.com.pk/story/1631628/1- ... -humanity/
What Does Oneness Look Like in Real Life?
We’re writing to let you know that Integral Enlightenment Founder Craig Hamilton will be one of the featured speakers during the 9th Annual Global Oneness Day FREE Online Summit on Wednesday, October 24th.
https://globalonenesssummit.org/?cookie ... adff0ced93
If you haven’t heard about Global Oneness Day, think of it as an “earth day” for an awakening humanity . . . a global event where all of us who aspire to awaken and evolve consciousness can come together in an expression and celebration of our essential unity.
Each year, Global Oneness Day offers a full schedule of inspiring online talks and panel discussions offering practical insights for living an awakened life.
Imagine a world where everyone lived from an ecstatic place of Oneness throughout each and every day of their lives, feeling that connection and contributing to the wellbeing of everyone else.
That’s the kind of world the Global Oneness Day Summit is dedicated to creating. We hope you’ll want to be a part of it and will join us for a day full of powerful and inspiring FREE seminars and panels with over 50 luminaries, including Marianne Williamson, Dr. Jean Houston, Thomas Hubl, Bruce Lipton, Mary Morrissey, and Matthew Fox.
Tens of thousands of like-minded people from all over the world will be there as we unite together to affirm our individual and collective commitment to the Oneness that is the foundation of the Universe.
The seminars and panels will present you with new ways to bring greater health, harmony, and prosperity into your daily life, plus they will inspire you to perform acts of kindness, compassion, and love wherever you go.
Toward its goal of inspiring greater levels of compassion and caring in the world, the theme of this year’s Global Oneness Day is “Living Your Life for the Benefit of All,” and we believe it’s more important than ever.
Find Out All About the 9th Annual Global Oneness Day FREE Online Summit Here
https://globalonenesssummit.org/?cookie ... adff0ced93
The panel Craig will be participating in will explore the powerful, life-changing perspectives of Evolutionary Spirituality and Integral Theory, along with Steve McIntosh, Terry Patten and Steve Farrell.
Together, they’ll explore a world where everyone moves through their lives with a clear awareness of their true potential, their true purpose, and their true connection to the Source of everything.
In a world like that, there would be no need for the unhealthy levels of competition and conflict that arise from the fear of the unknown and the crippling self-doubt that burden most of humanity now.
We encourage you to tune in to this important panel discussion and to join us in attending as much of this wonderful annual event as you can!
Sign Up for FREE to Join Us at the Global Oneness Day Online Summit on Wednesday, October 24th
Warmly,
The Integral Enlightenment Team
P.S. We are hoping to have 100,000 people at this year’s Global Oneness Day Online Summit, so please help spread the word by sharing this invitation with your friends via email or social media. You can forward this email to them or share this link on Facebook or Twitter.
We’re writing to let you know that Integral Enlightenment Founder Craig Hamilton will be one of the featured speakers during the 9th Annual Global Oneness Day FREE Online Summit on Wednesday, October 24th.
https://globalonenesssummit.org/?cookie ... adff0ced93
If you haven’t heard about Global Oneness Day, think of it as an “earth day” for an awakening humanity . . . a global event where all of us who aspire to awaken and evolve consciousness can come together in an expression and celebration of our essential unity.
Each year, Global Oneness Day offers a full schedule of inspiring online talks and panel discussions offering practical insights for living an awakened life.
Imagine a world where everyone lived from an ecstatic place of Oneness throughout each and every day of their lives, feeling that connection and contributing to the wellbeing of everyone else.
That’s the kind of world the Global Oneness Day Summit is dedicated to creating. We hope you’ll want to be a part of it and will join us for a day full of powerful and inspiring FREE seminars and panels with over 50 luminaries, including Marianne Williamson, Dr. Jean Houston, Thomas Hubl, Bruce Lipton, Mary Morrissey, and Matthew Fox.
Tens of thousands of like-minded people from all over the world will be there as we unite together to affirm our individual and collective commitment to the Oneness that is the foundation of the Universe.
The seminars and panels will present you with new ways to bring greater health, harmony, and prosperity into your daily life, plus they will inspire you to perform acts of kindness, compassion, and love wherever you go.
Toward its goal of inspiring greater levels of compassion and caring in the world, the theme of this year’s Global Oneness Day is “Living Your Life for the Benefit of All,” and we believe it’s more important than ever.
Find Out All About the 9th Annual Global Oneness Day FREE Online Summit Here
https://globalonenesssummit.org/?cookie ... adff0ced93
The panel Craig will be participating in will explore the powerful, life-changing perspectives of Evolutionary Spirituality and Integral Theory, along with Steve McIntosh, Terry Patten and Steve Farrell.
Together, they’ll explore a world where everyone moves through their lives with a clear awareness of their true potential, their true purpose, and their true connection to the Source of everything.
In a world like that, there would be no need for the unhealthy levels of competition and conflict that arise from the fear of the unknown and the crippling self-doubt that burden most of humanity now.
We encourage you to tune in to this important panel discussion and to join us in attending as much of this wonderful annual event as you can!
Sign Up for FREE to Join Us at the Global Oneness Day Online Summit on Wednesday, October 24th
Warmly,
The Integral Enlightenment Team
P.S. We are hoping to have 100,000 people at this year’s Global Oneness Day Online Summit, so please help spread the word by sharing this invitation with your friends via email or social media. You can forward this email to them or share this link on Facebook or Twitter.
Eclectic Sufism in the Contemporary Arab World
Abstract
—Eclectic Sufism that might be interpreted as a modern form of subjectivity construction has been observed in Morocco and Pakistan. This article reports comparable phenomena elsewhere, using the case of the Arabic translation of Elif Shafak’s novel The Forty Rules of Love. The article argues that, in the wider Arab world as in Morocco and Pakistan, the localization of eclectic Sufism is an instance of the reinterpretation of Islamic traditions to incorporate globally relevant social imaginaries. It questions, however, the association between eclectic Sufism and individualism, and argues that there is also a further form of localization: the application of eclectic Sufism to contemporary political conditions, notably the problem of sectarianism.
The article at:
https://www.academia.edu/35542515/Eclec ... Arab_World
Abstract
—Eclectic Sufism that might be interpreted as a modern form of subjectivity construction has been observed in Morocco and Pakistan. This article reports comparable phenomena elsewhere, using the case of the Arabic translation of Elif Shafak’s novel The Forty Rules of Love. The article argues that, in the wider Arab world as in Morocco and Pakistan, the localization of eclectic Sufism is an instance of the reinterpretation of Islamic traditions to incorporate globally relevant social imaginaries. It questions, however, the association between eclectic Sufism and individualism, and argues that there is also a further form of localization: the application of eclectic Sufism to contemporary political conditions, notably the problem of sectarianism.
The article at:
https://www.academia.edu/35542515/Eclec ... Arab_World
COUNTERING EXTREMISM THROUGH SUFISM
Abstract
Accepting diversity as a way of nature and norm of human life is the key to resolve the ongoing ideological contradictions and socio-ethnic ambiguities, which are the main drivers of extremism in Pakistan. In order to fight the growing menace of religious extremism, sectarian divide and ethnic intolerance, there is a dire need to find a way of life which functions on the basis of inclusiveness and shuns exclusiveness.
Sufism provides such viable option. Sufis feel that Allah has created diversity, so we must respect it. Social doctrine of Sufism asserts "Do not give me scissor! Give me the needle! I sew together I do not cut apart"
Article at:
https://www.academia.edu/9834071/COUNTE ... UGH_SUFISM
Abstract
Accepting diversity as a way of nature and norm of human life is the key to resolve the ongoing ideological contradictions and socio-ethnic ambiguities, which are the main drivers of extremism in Pakistan. In order to fight the growing menace of religious extremism, sectarian divide and ethnic intolerance, there is a dire need to find a way of life which functions on the basis of inclusiveness and shuns exclusiveness.
Sufism provides such viable option. Sufis feel that Allah has created diversity, so we must respect it. Social doctrine of Sufism asserts "Do not give me scissor! Give me the needle! I sew together I do not cut apart"
Article at:
https://www.academia.edu/9834071/COUNTE ... UGH_SUFISM
Book
Accusations of Unbelief in Islam - A Diachronic Perspective on Takfir
Chapter 19
“Religions, Opinions and Beliefs are Nothing but Roads and Paths . . . While the Goal is One”: Between Unity and Diversity in Islamic Mysticism
Michael Ebstein
1 Introduction
A liberal and tolerant attitude towards other religions and spiritual paths is characteristic of many mystical traditions worldwide. The notion, shared by different mystical teachings, of a unity inextricably connecting God, the world and mankind, often lends itself to a universal approach whereby religious and social differences between fellow men are perceived as being essentially inconsequential. This approach is likewise evident in various Islamic mystical writings, where one may detect a more tolerant attitude towards the ‘other’ than that expressed in many Islamic theological and legal works.An example of such an attitude is found in the famous “Epistle” (al-Risala ) of the great Sufi author Abu l-Qasim Abd al-Karim al-Qushayri (b. 376/986; d. 465/1072). In a discussion concerning divine mercy and compassion, al-Qushayri relates the story of a Zoroastrian (majusi ) who sought the hospitality of Abraham the patriarch, God’s friend (al-khalil). Abraham, however, was unwilling to offer him hospitality unless he submitted himself to God. The Zoroastrian refused; Allah then revealed himself to Abraham saying,
Oh Abraham! You [were] not [willing to] feed him unless he changed his religion; yet We have been feeding him for the last seventy years despite his unbelief (ala kufrihi ). If you were to offer him hospitality for just one night, what would be held against you?
As a result of this Divine reproof, Abraham immediately changed his mind and decided to offer the Zoroastrian his hospitality.
The entire paper can be accessed at:
https://www.academia.edu/17894098/_Reli ... view-paper
Accusations of Unbelief in Islam - A Diachronic Perspective on Takfir
Chapter 19
“Religions, Opinions and Beliefs are Nothing but Roads and Paths . . . While the Goal is One”: Between Unity and Diversity in Islamic Mysticism
Michael Ebstein
1 Introduction
A liberal and tolerant attitude towards other religions and spiritual paths is characteristic of many mystical traditions worldwide. The notion, shared by different mystical teachings, of a unity inextricably connecting God, the world and mankind, often lends itself to a universal approach whereby religious and social differences between fellow men are perceived as being essentially inconsequential. This approach is likewise evident in various Islamic mystical writings, where one may detect a more tolerant attitude towards the ‘other’ than that expressed in many Islamic theological and legal works.An example of such an attitude is found in the famous “Epistle” (al-Risala ) of the great Sufi author Abu l-Qasim Abd al-Karim al-Qushayri (b. 376/986; d. 465/1072). In a discussion concerning divine mercy and compassion, al-Qushayri relates the story of a Zoroastrian (majusi ) who sought the hospitality of Abraham the patriarch, God’s friend (al-khalil). Abraham, however, was unwilling to offer him hospitality unless he submitted himself to God. The Zoroastrian refused; Allah then revealed himself to Abraham saying,
Oh Abraham! You [were] not [willing to] feed him unless he changed his religion; yet We have been feeding him for the last seventy years despite his unbelief (ala kufrihi ). If you were to offer him hospitality for just one night, what would be held against you?
As a result of this Divine reproof, Abraham immediately changed his mind and decided to offer the Zoroastrian his hospitality.
The entire paper can be accessed at:
https://www.academia.edu/17894098/_Reli ... view-paper
The Esoteric Shakespeare, by Michael White
https://parabola.org/2019/01/30/the-eso ... ael-white/
Excerpt:
The practice of self-observation and non-identification shifts the focus of awareness from our individual opinions and prejudices to the basic human nature that is inherent in each person. This is an awakening to another level of self-realization, of self-reflection, of self-observation. This heightened self-awareness knows that it knows and does so from a disinterested point of view. The relationship of the individual sense of self to basic human nature is often compared to a single drop of rain falling into the ocean. Shakespeare used this metaphor in The Comedy of Errors where he writes,
I to the world am like a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drip,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself.
(1. 2. 35-38)
Shifting the focus of attention to the basic human nature inherent in each of us reveals a place in each person where all humans are alike. Those who experience this can accept others without prejudice, non-judgmentally. In this type of self-awareness all that has been hidden, repressed, and concealed in our personal history can be revealed without guilt or shame as something human all too human. It is a function of art to reveal the secrets of the heart with confidence and fidelity, as revelation in which all beings participate. Creativity is not expressing something new but rather an expression of something so common that it touches each person, so universal that it cannot be ignored.
https://parabola.org/2019/01/30/the-eso ... ael-white/
Excerpt:
The practice of self-observation and non-identification shifts the focus of awareness from our individual opinions and prejudices to the basic human nature that is inherent in each person. This is an awakening to another level of self-realization, of self-reflection, of self-observation. This heightened self-awareness knows that it knows and does so from a disinterested point of view. The relationship of the individual sense of self to basic human nature is often compared to a single drop of rain falling into the ocean. Shakespeare used this metaphor in The Comedy of Errors where he writes,
I to the world am like a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drip,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself.
(1. 2. 35-38)
Shifting the focus of attention to the basic human nature inherent in each of us reveals a place in each person where all humans are alike. Those who experience this can accept others without prejudice, non-judgmentally. In this type of self-awareness all that has been hidden, repressed, and concealed in our personal history can be revealed without guilt or shame as something human all too human. It is a function of art to reveal the secrets of the heart with confidence and fidelity, as revelation in which all beings participate. Creativity is not expressing something new but rather an expression of something so common that it touches each person, so universal that it cannot be ignored.
The Rose and the Nightingale: A story representing the central theme of mysticism and esoteric traditions
BY NIMIRA DEWJI POSTED ON JUNE 15, 2022
From the Greek myein, “to close the eyes,” which is the root of the words myth and mystery, the term mysticism is applied to cryptic, obscure, or irrational thought — leaning toward mystery and wonder, rather than logic. In the domain of religion many faiths, including Hinduism, Judaism, and Christianity, have their own forms of mysticism, placing an emphasis on spiritual connection and union (Vocabulary.com)
Islamic mysticism is generally associated with Sufis and esoteric traditions that distinguish the zahir, or literal, from the batin, the hidden meaning, of the Qur’an. Annemarie Schimmel states that “mysticism contains something mysterious, not to be reached by ordinary means or by intellectual effort” (Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam p 3) “Mysticism can be defined as love of the Absolute…this love can carry the mystic’s heart to the Divine Presence like the falcon which carries away the prey, separating him, thus, from all that is created in time” (Mystical Dimensions p 4). Alessandro Cancian states “a mystical or esoteric strand of Islam, Sufism’s defining feature is the centrality of the individual’s direct relationship with God.
Esoteric traditions focus on the batin, and often assign symbolic meanings to physical objects to explain doctrines such as Paradise metaphored by a garden. Islamic gardens are also a reflection of Paradise said to await the faithful. The reward for good deeds, according to the Qur’an, is a place of shaded trees, flowing water, gardens with sweet fruits (bustan) and fragrant flowers (gulistan). The word paradise, from ancient Persian paradesion – pairi meaning ‘around’ and daeza meaning ‘to make’ or ‘form’ (a wall) – entered into Greek as paradeisos and into Latin as paradisus (See chahar-bagh). These images have fed centuries of Muslim art, narrative, and design, as well as spiritual inspiration.
Among the flowers, the rose, a legendary and most loved flower, has been honoured since ancient times for its beauty, fragrance, and medicinal benefits. In Islamic traditions, the rose symbolised the Divine – as it blooms, the bud gradually opens to reveal beautiful layers, which are metaphors of unfolding spiritual wisdom. Annemarie Schimmel states “According to a tradition, when the Prophet saw a rose, he kissed it and pressed it to his eyes and said, “the red rose is part of God’s glory” (Mystical Dimensions of Islam p299). Schimmel adds that the “Prophet’s love of roses may have induced the poets to call him the ‘nightingale of the Eternal Garden’ for he discloses to the faithful some of the mysteries of God, the Everlasting Rose” (Ibid: p22).
In many traditions, rose water is used during ritual and sacred ceremonies for its calming effect and for its fragrance that evokes the presence of the Divine.
The rose, a metaphor for beauty and perfection, is featured most prominently in Persian literature. Sadi, a thirteenth century classical poet, titled one of his principal works as Gulistan (Rose Garden), which is recognised as concealing a range of the deepest Sufi knowledge (Idris Shah, The Sufis, 1968). The text became a canon of Persian and Sufi literature as has Mahmud Shabistari’s Gulsan-i-Raz (Rose Garden of Secrets), which was introduced into Europe in 1700s by travellers. In 1821 Dr. Tholuck, of Berlin, published extracts, and in 1825 a German translation of part of the poem appeared in another of his books. Subsequently a Persian text was published by Von Hammer Purgstall in Berlin and Vienna. The Gulshan i Edz was translated into English and published, with the Persian text and extracts from Hammer’s edition and Lajihi’s notes, by Mr. Whinfield in 1880 (The Secret Rose Garden of Sa’d ud din Mahmud Shabistari).
Sadi’s Gulistan, Gulistan, dated 1822, written in Nastaliq. Image: Tehran Times
Persian mystical poetry influenced poets such as Goethe and Rilke as well as Western writers such as Whitman, Thoreau, and Donne who produced West-Ostlicher Divan (Oriental Divan). Oscar Wilde’s fairy tale The Nightingale and the Rose was also inspired by Persian literature.
The imagery of birds and flight have long been a universal symbol of the ascension of the human soul to a higher reality. “From the winged deities of the ancient Near East to the angels of the Bible and the winged souls of Plato’s Phaedrus, poets and prophets have depicted the power of the wing to lift the soul through flight to paradise” (Ernst). The ancient Arabians thought of the soul as a bird leaving the body from the head as death occurred.
In the Islamic tradition, early symbolism of birds and flight “can be found in the writings of philosophers, Sufis, and poets such as Ibn Sina[d.1037], Suhrawardi [d.1191], Khaqani [d. 1199], Ruzbihan Baqli, (d.1209), and above all the great epic of Farid al-Din Attar [d.ca 1220].” The birds are a “symbol of earthly life, the physicality of which must be transcended” (Ernst p 359). The human soul, like a bird can choose to remain caged in this perishable world or fly towards Liberation.
The nightingale (bulbul in Persian), featured widely in Persian literature, sings more vividly in the days when roses bloom and it is accepted that there is an imaginary earthly and spiritual love relationship between it and the rose (the nightingale represents the passionate lover and the rose is the beloved). The biggest obstacle preventing the nightingale from approaching the rose is the rose’s thorns. During the spiritual journey towards oneness, obstacles and difficulties represented by the thorns of the rose have to be overcome.
An illustration of the story The Rose and the Nightingale. Image: Onlinelearning
More than any other mystical poet, Farid al-Din Attar is referred to as the voice of longing and of searching. “His works treat the perpetual movement of the soul toward its origin and goal in different allegories” (Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam p 305). His most famous epic poem, “The Birds’ Conversation,” (Mantiq ut-tayr) comprising 4,500 lines, is the most perfect introduction to the mystical path, with its seven valleys, in which are described all the difficulties the soul will encounter on the journey. The imagery of the birds was elaborated increasingly after Attar’s Mantiq ut-tayr became one of the favourite story books of Persian literature, which also influenced literature and art of esoteric traditions in the Indian subcontinent.
Si murgh, or “thirty birds.” Image: Simurgh Legend
Sufism spread to the subcontinent beginning in the eighth century, and increasingly in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. “Lahore [in modern-day Pakistan] became the first centre of Persian-inspired Muslim culture in the subcontinent” (Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam p 345).
Persian literary traditions, dominated by poetry, have exercised an enormous influence ”in the cultural life of Islamic societies in West, Central, and South Asia since about the eleventh century. Not only was Persian literature enthusiastically cultivated outside the boundaries of the Iranian plateau especially in Anatolia and India by both Iranians and non-Iranians, well into the modern period, but its literary achievements remained the chief models in the formation of other literary traditions in the eastern part of the Islamic world” (Karamustafa, The Muslim Almanac p 345).
Schimmel states “Persian poetry written at the Mughal court and throughout Muslim India, including Bengal, was dominated by the imagery developed in Iran – most of the leading poets between 1570 and 1650, in fact, were from Iran. The constant oscillating between worldly and divine love, the symbolism of roses and nightingales continued; now the vocabulary was enriched by allegorical stories from Indian sources…” (Mystical Dimensions of Islam p 360).
Similar poetry was composed by the Persian missionaries, known as pirs, who were sent to the Indian subcontinent by the Ismaili Imams; they composed poetry known as ginans in various Indic languages to teach the Ismaili interpretation of Islam. The themes of ginans range from laments of the soul as it proceeds on a spiritual quest, to ethical precepts concerning proper business practice. One ginan may contain more than one theme that are blended together, however, the corpus comprises some major motifs. (More on ginans).
In several ginans, pirs express longing for and union with the Beloved (didar/darshan), for example:
Ab teri mohobat lagi mere sahib, by Pir Shams “O my Lord! Now I am in love with you, my heart is full with your love, let your eyes meet mine” (Listen to ginan at Ginan Central, University of Saskatchewan).
Darshan diyo mora naath daasi chhun teri by Sayyida Imam Begum “O Lord, bless me with your didar, I am your slave (Listen to ginan).
Unchaare kot bahu vechanaa by Pir Hasan Kabirdin
Your place lies in a highly elevated fort below which flows a river and I am like a fish in that river. O my beloved! Come to save me. I am restless without didar (Listen to ginan).
The general tenor of the poetry of the supplication (venti) ginans remained by and large the same; “endless longing for a beloved [Beatific Vision] who can never be reached unless the lover undertakes very difficult tasks and gladly offers his life on the thorny path towards the eternal goal” (Ibid. p 360). The inner rose reveals itself in the heart when the individual soul completely and joyously opens itself to the Transcendent Reality, and dwelling there, God makes of the heart a living garden (Ibid. p 307).
Image: Wikipedia
“Everyone sees the unseen in proportion to the clarity of his heart, and that depends upon how much he has polished it. Whoever has polished it more sees more — more unseen forms become manifest to him…”
Rumi
Sources:
Ahmet T. Karamustafa, “Muslim Literature in Persian and Arabic,” The Muslim Almanac Ed. Azim A. Nanji, Gale Research Inc.,1996
Alisar Iram, The Rose and the Nightingale
Carl N. Ernst, “The Symbolism of Birds and Flight in the Writings of Ruzbihan Baqli” published in Religious Symbolism: A Plea for a Comparative Approach, Taylor & Francis, Ltd. (1977)
Ivan M. Granger, Rose, Poetry Chaikhana
Layla S. Diba, Gol-O-Bolbol, Encyclopaedia Iranica
Samaneh Khaleghi, Walt Whitman and Sufism: A Persian Lession
Slaveya Nedelcheva, The Metaphor of the Rose and the Nightingale (“Gül-ü Bülbül”) in Sufi and Ottoman literature
Suresh Emre, Rose Symbolism
Contributed by Nimira Dewji. Nimira is an invited writer although she has contributed several articles in the past (view previous articles). She also has her own blog – Nimirasblog – where she writes short articles on Ismaili history and Muslim civilisations. When not researching and writing, Nimira volunteers at a shelter for the unhoused, and at a women’s shelter. She can be reached at [email protected].
https://ismailimail.blog/2022/06/15/the ... raditions/
From the Greek myein, “to close the eyes,” which is the root of the words myth and mystery, the term mysticism is applied to cryptic, obscure, or irrational thought — leaning toward mystery and wonder, rather than logic. In the domain of religion many faiths, including Hinduism, Judaism, and Christianity, have their own forms of mysticism, placing an emphasis on spiritual connection and union (Vocabulary.com)
Islamic mysticism is generally associated with Sufis and esoteric traditions that distinguish the zahir, or literal, from the batin, the hidden meaning, of the Qur’an. Annemarie Schimmel states that “mysticism contains something mysterious, not to be reached by ordinary means or by intellectual effort” (Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam p 3) “Mysticism can be defined as love of the Absolute…this love can carry the mystic’s heart to the Divine Presence like the falcon which carries away the prey, separating him, thus, from all that is created in time” (Mystical Dimensions p 4). Alessandro Cancian states “a mystical or esoteric strand of Islam, Sufism’s defining feature is the centrality of the individual’s direct relationship with God.
Esoteric traditions focus on the batin, and often assign symbolic meanings to physical objects to explain doctrines such as Paradise metaphored by a garden. Islamic gardens are also a reflection of Paradise said to await the faithful. The reward for good deeds, according to the Qur’an, is a place of shaded trees, flowing water, gardens with sweet fruits (bustan) and fragrant flowers (gulistan). The word paradise, from ancient Persian paradesion – pairi meaning ‘around’ and daeza meaning ‘to make’ or ‘form’ (a wall) – entered into Greek as paradeisos and into Latin as paradisus (See chahar-bagh). These images have fed centuries of Muslim art, narrative, and design, as well as spiritual inspiration.
Among the flowers, the rose, a legendary and most loved flower, has been honoured since ancient times for its beauty, fragrance, and medicinal benefits. In Islamic traditions, the rose symbolised the Divine – as it blooms, the bud gradually opens to reveal beautiful layers, which are metaphors of unfolding spiritual wisdom. Annemarie Schimmel states “According to a tradition, when the Prophet saw a rose, he kissed it and pressed it to his eyes and said, “the red rose is part of God’s glory” (Mystical Dimensions of Islam p299). Schimmel adds that the “Prophet’s love of roses may have induced the poets to call him the ‘nightingale of the Eternal Garden’ for he discloses to the faithful some of the mysteries of God, the Everlasting Rose” (Ibid: p22).
In many traditions, rose water is used during ritual and sacred ceremonies for its calming effect and for its fragrance that evokes the presence of the Divine.
The rose, a metaphor for beauty and perfection, is featured most prominently in Persian literature. Sadi, a thirteenth century classical poet, titled one of his principal works as Gulistan (Rose Garden), which is recognised as concealing a range of the deepest Sufi knowledge (Idris Shah, The Sufis, 1968). The text became a canon of Persian and Sufi literature as has Mahmud Shabistari’s Gulsan-i-Raz (Rose Garden of Secrets), which was introduced into Europe in 1700s by travellers. In 1821 Dr. Tholuck, of Berlin, published extracts, and in 1825 a German translation of part of the poem appeared in another of his books. Subsequently a Persian text was published by Von Hammer Purgstall in Berlin and Vienna. The Gulshan i Edz was translated into English and published, with the Persian text and extracts from Hammer’s edition and Lajihi’s notes, by Mr. Whinfield in 1880 (The Secret Rose Garden of Sa’d ud din Mahmud Shabistari).
Sadi’s Gulistan, Gulistan, dated 1822, written in Nastaliq. Image: Tehran Times
Persian mystical poetry influenced poets such as Goethe and Rilke as well as Western writers such as Whitman, Thoreau, and Donne who produced West-Ostlicher Divan (Oriental Divan). Oscar Wilde’s fairy tale The Nightingale and the Rose was also inspired by Persian literature.
The imagery of birds and flight have long been a universal symbol of the ascension of the human soul to a higher reality. “From the winged deities of the ancient Near East to the angels of the Bible and the winged souls of Plato’s Phaedrus, poets and prophets have depicted the power of the wing to lift the soul through flight to paradise” (Ernst). The ancient Arabians thought of the soul as a bird leaving the body from the head as death occurred.
In the Islamic tradition, early symbolism of birds and flight “can be found in the writings of philosophers, Sufis, and poets such as Ibn Sina[d.1037], Suhrawardi [d.1191], Khaqani [d. 1199], Ruzbihan Baqli, (d.1209), and above all the great epic of Farid al-Din Attar [d.ca 1220].” The birds are a “symbol of earthly life, the physicality of which must be transcended” (Ernst p 359). The human soul, like a bird can choose to remain caged in this perishable world or fly towards Liberation.
The nightingale (bulbul in Persian), featured widely in Persian literature, sings more vividly in the days when roses bloom and it is accepted that there is an imaginary earthly and spiritual love relationship between it and the rose (the nightingale represents the passionate lover and the rose is the beloved). The biggest obstacle preventing the nightingale from approaching the rose is the rose’s thorns. During the spiritual journey towards oneness, obstacles and difficulties represented by the thorns of the rose have to be overcome.
An illustration of the story The Rose and the Nightingale. Image: Onlinelearning
More than any other mystical poet, Farid al-Din Attar is referred to as the voice of longing and of searching. “His works treat the perpetual movement of the soul toward its origin and goal in different allegories” (Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam p 305). His most famous epic poem, “The Birds’ Conversation,” (Mantiq ut-tayr) comprising 4,500 lines, is the most perfect introduction to the mystical path, with its seven valleys, in which are described all the difficulties the soul will encounter on the journey. The imagery of the birds was elaborated increasingly after Attar’s Mantiq ut-tayr became one of the favourite story books of Persian literature, which also influenced literature and art of esoteric traditions in the Indian subcontinent.
Si murgh, or “thirty birds.” Image: Simurgh Legend
Sufism spread to the subcontinent beginning in the eighth century, and increasingly in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. “Lahore [in modern-day Pakistan] became the first centre of Persian-inspired Muslim culture in the subcontinent” (Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam p 345).
Persian literary traditions, dominated by poetry, have exercised an enormous influence ”in the cultural life of Islamic societies in West, Central, and South Asia since about the eleventh century. Not only was Persian literature enthusiastically cultivated outside the boundaries of the Iranian plateau especially in Anatolia and India by both Iranians and non-Iranians, well into the modern period, but its literary achievements remained the chief models in the formation of other literary traditions in the eastern part of the Islamic world” (Karamustafa, The Muslim Almanac p 345).
Schimmel states “Persian poetry written at the Mughal court and throughout Muslim India, including Bengal, was dominated by the imagery developed in Iran – most of the leading poets between 1570 and 1650, in fact, were from Iran. The constant oscillating between worldly and divine love, the symbolism of roses and nightingales continued; now the vocabulary was enriched by allegorical stories from Indian sources…” (Mystical Dimensions of Islam p 360).
Similar poetry was composed by the Persian missionaries, known as pirs, who were sent to the Indian subcontinent by the Ismaili Imams; they composed poetry known as ginans in various Indic languages to teach the Ismaili interpretation of Islam. The themes of ginans range from laments of the soul as it proceeds on a spiritual quest, to ethical precepts concerning proper business practice. One ginan may contain more than one theme that are blended together, however, the corpus comprises some major motifs. (More on ginans).
In several ginans, pirs express longing for and union with the Beloved (didar/darshan), for example:
Ab teri mohobat lagi mere sahib, by Pir Shams “O my Lord! Now I am in love with you, my heart is full with your love, let your eyes meet mine” (Listen to ginan at Ginan Central, University of Saskatchewan).
Darshan diyo mora naath daasi chhun teri by Sayyida Imam Begum “O Lord, bless me with your didar, I am your slave (Listen to ginan).
Unchaare kot bahu vechanaa by Pir Hasan Kabirdin
Your place lies in a highly elevated fort below which flows a river and I am like a fish in that river. O my beloved! Come to save me. I am restless without didar (Listen to ginan).
The general tenor of the poetry of the supplication (venti) ginans remained by and large the same; “endless longing for a beloved [Beatific Vision] who can never be reached unless the lover undertakes very difficult tasks and gladly offers his life on the thorny path towards the eternal goal” (Ibid. p 360). The inner rose reveals itself in the heart when the individual soul completely and joyously opens itself to the Transcendent Reality, and dwelling there, God makes of the heart a living garden (Ibid. p 307).
Image: Wikipedia
“Everyone sees the unseen in proportion to the clarity of his heart, and that depends upon how much he has polished it. Whoever has polished it more sees more — more unseen forms become manifest to him…”
Rumi
Sources:
Ahmet T. Karamustafa, “Muslim Literature in Persian and Arabic,” The Muslim Almanac Ed. Azim A. Nanji, Gale Research Inc.,1996
Alisar Iram, The Rose and the Nightingale
Carl N. Ernst, “The Symbolism of Birds and Flight in the Writings of Ruzbihan Baqli” published in Religious Symbolism: A Plea for a Comparative Approach, Taylor & Francis, Ltd. (1977)
Ivan M. Granger, Rose, Poetry Chaikhana
Layla S. Diba, Gol-O-Bolbol, Encyclopaedia Iranica
Samaneh Khaleghi, Walt Whitman and Sufism: A Persian Lession
Slaveya Nedelcheva, The Metaphor of the Rose and the Nightingale (“Gül-ü Bülbül”) in Sufi and Ottoman literature
Suresh Emre, Rose Symbolism
Contributed by Nimira Dewji. Nimira is an invited writer although she has contributed several articles in the past (view previous articles). She also has her own blog – Nimirasblog – where she writes short articles on Ismaili history and Muslim civilisations. When not researching and writing, Nimira volunteers at a shelter for the unhoused, and at a women’s shelter. She can be reached at [email protected].
https://ismailimail.blog/2022/06/15/the ... raditions/
Photos of a Procession That Unites Islam’s Often-Conflicted Branches
In Pakistan’s Shah Jeewna, a Muharram procession historically led by Shia Muslims is led by both Shia and Sunni Muslims.
In a small town in Jhang, Pakistan that was named after the 14th century Sufi saint Shah Jeewna, thousands took part in an Ashura procession on Tuesday to remember an unforgettable battle that took place in Karbala, Iraq in the year 680.
Ashura is observed on the tenth day of Muharram, the first month of the Islamic lunar calendar. It marks the day the Prophet Muhammad’s grandson Imam Hussain and 71 members of his family, including women and children, were brutally massacred at the battle of Karbala because they refused to acknowledge Yazid ibn Mu'awiya as the sixth caliph of Islam.
MOURNERS GATHER NEXT TO A TA'ZIAH STRUCTURE TO REMEMBER THE DEATH OF IMAM HUSSAIN AS THEY WAIT FOR THE PROCESSION TO START.
Processions and communal gatherings are mostly led by the world’s 400 million Shia Muslims on this day. Clad in black, Shia worshippers cry and beat their chests in unison, while some flagellate themselves with swords, chains or their hands, others carry ornate replicas of coffins, tombs and shrines.
PROCESSION PARTICIPANTS CARRY A MASSIVE TA'ZIAH OR COMMEMORATION TOMB THROUGH A NARROWLY PACKED STREET IN SHAH JEEWNA, PAKISTAN ON AUGUST 9, 2022.
In Shah Jeewna, however, the procession has been led by both Shia and Sunni Muslims for centuries.
“Despite differences in faiths, our collective binding under the spiritual banner of Shah Jeewna supersedes all possible sectarian differences, which is why we have seen interfaith harmony in an unprecedented manner,” Syed Hussain Ali Shah, a procession participant, told VICE World News.
A YOUNG GIRL DRINKS WATER FROM A CUP OF CLAY - FREE DISTRIBUTION OF WATER IS A DISTINCT FEATURE OF MUHARRAM PROCESSIONS IN HIGH HEAT.
The two main sects of Islam began shortly after the death of Prophet Muhammad in the year 632, with Shia Muslims wanting to nominate his son-in-law Ali (Imam Hussain’s father) as the caliph or leader of Islam, and Sunni Muslims wanting to nominate another leader from the community. The processions in Shah Jeewna offer a unique example where both sects come together.
PARTICIPANTS CARRYING A TA'ZIAH ARE TIGHTLY CRAMMED INTO A QUEUE UNDER THE GIANT STRUCTURE.
While interfaith Sunni and Shia Ashura processions used to be a common occurrence centuries ago in Sufi towns across India and modern-day Pakistan, they have now become rare. The united processions in Shah Jeewna carry on, despite outlawed anti-Shia militant groups operating close to the town in Pakistan’s Punjab province.
“There was a time though – in the ‘90s – when distant members of my family were targeted by nearby anti-Shia outfits,” said Shah.
Shah and others participated in the procession by carrying Ta’ziahs, commemorative handmade wooden ornate tombs, and an alam, a heavy metal object filled with intricate engravings, carried on top of a flag to mark the deaths at the battle of Karbala.
VOLUNTEERS CARRYING THE TA'ZIAH SWEAT AS THEY WALK THROUGH A RALLY.
He added, “What is truly remarkable about Ashura in Shah Jeewna is that for almost a century, not a single thing has changed about our traditions. It is one of the most organised processions of Muharram. For instance, the same family has been travelling to Shah Jeewna from a nearby village to recite the same noha (an elegy about the tragedy of Imam Hussain at the battle of Karbala) at the same spot for the past 100 years.”
A VOLUNTEER SPRAYS COOL WATER ON MOURNERS ENGAGED IN MAATAM IN 98 F WEATHER.
Another participant named Haider told VICE World News, “Every 30 years, Muharram arrives in peak summer – this is the second time in my life when Muharram has come around July–August. I remember this same feeling – drenched in water and sweat, nearly suffocating but wanting to keep going.”
Follow Moaz Bhangu on Instagram.
https://www.vice.com/en/article/dy733k/ ... a-pakistan
In a small town in Jhang, Pakistan that was named after the 14th century Sufi saint Shah Jeewna, thousands took part in an Ashura procession on Tuesday to remember an unforgettable battle that took place in Karbala, Iraq in the year 680.
Ashura is observed on the tenth day of Muharram, the first month of the Islamic lunar calendar. It marks the day the Prophet Muhammad’s grandson Imam Hussain and 71 members of his family, including women and children, were brutally massacred at the battle of Karbala because they refused to acknowledge Yazid ibn Mu'awiya as the sixth caliph of Islam.
MOURNERS GATHER NEXT TO A TA'ZIAH STRUCTURE TO REMEMBER THE DEATH OF IMAM HUSSAIN AS THEY WAIT FOR THE PROCESSION TO START.
Processions and communal gatherings are mostly led by the world’s 400 million Shia Muslims on this day. Clad in black, Shia worshippers cry and beat their chests in unison, while some flagellate themselves with swords, chains or their hands, others carry ornate replicas of coffins, tombs and shrines.
PROCESSION PARTICIPANTS CARRY A MASSIVE TA'ZIAH OR COMMEMORATION TOMB THROUGH A NARROWLY PACKED STREET IN SHAH JEEWNA, PAKISTAN ON AUGUST 9, 2022.
In Shah Jeewna, however, the procession has been led by both Shia and Sunni Muslims for centuries.
“Despite differences in faiths, our collective binding under the spiritual banner of Shah Jeewna supersedes all possible sectarian differences, which is why we have seen interfaith harmony in an unprecedented manner,” Syed Hussain Ali Shah, a procession participant, told VICE World News.
A YOUNG GIRL DRINKS WATER FROM A CUP OF CLAY - FREE DISTRIBUTION OF WATER IS A DISTINCT FEATURE OF MUHARRAM PROCESSIONS IN HIGH HEAT.
The two main sects of Islam began shortly after the death of Prophet Muhammad in the year 632, with Shia Muslims wanting to nominate his son-in-law Ali (Imam Hussain’s father) as the caliph or leader of Islam, and Sunni Muslims wanting to nominate another leader from the community. The processions in Shah Jeewna offer a unique example where both sects come together.
PARTICIPANTS CARRYING A TA'ZIAH ARE TIGHTLY CRAMMED INTO A QUEUE UNDER THE GIANT STRUCTURE.
While interfaith Sunni and Shia Ashura processions used to be a common occurrence centuries ago in Sufi towns across India and modern-day Pakistan, they have now become rare. The united processions in Shah Jeewna carry on, despite outlawed anti-Shia militant groups operating close to the town in Pakistan’s Punjab province.
“There was a time though – in the ‘90s – when distant members of my family were targeted by nearby anti-Shia outfits,” said Shah.
Shah and others participated in the procession by carrying Ta’ziahs, commemorative handmade wooden ornate tombs, and an alam, a heavy metal object filled with intricate engravings, carried on top of a flag to mark the deaths at the battle of Karbala.
VOLUNTEERS CARRYING THE TA'ZIAH SWEAT AS THEY WALK THROUGH A RALLY.
He added, “What is truly remarkable about Ashura in Shah Jeewna is that for almost a century, not a single thing has changed about our traditions. It is one of the most organised processions of Muharram. For instance, the same family has been travelling to Shah Jeewna from a nearby village to recite the same noha (an elegy about the tragedy of Imam Hussain at the battle of Karbala) at the same spot for the past 100 years.”
A VOLUNTEER SPRAYS COOL WATER ON MOURNERS ENGAGED IN MAATAM IN 98 F WEATHER.
Another participant named Haider told VICE World News, “Every 30 years, Muharram arrives in peak summer – this is the second time in my life when Muharram has come around July–August. I remember this same feeling – drenched in water and sweat, nearly suffocating but wanting to keep going.”
Follow Moaz Bhangu on Instagram.
https://www.vice.com/en/article/dy733k/ ... a-pakistan
Re: Sufism - A Strengthing Force in Pluralism
Academic Paper
Abhishiktananda (Henri le Saux, O.S.B) 1910–1973: Pioneer of interspiritual mysticism
Abstract:
There is no doubt that we live in an interspiritual age, although this is not unequivocally accepted in all sectors of religious and non-religious discourse. However, although, in the past, theological debate was primary, there has now been a welcome shift to shared experience. Interspiritual engagement has as its aim a deep appreciation of, respect for and engagement with the spiritual experience of the ‘other’. In order to glean some insights
regarding interspiritual mysticism, the aim of this article is to turn to a contemporary mystic for wisdom and guidance: Abhishiktananda (Dom Henri le Saux, O.S.B) (1910–1973) was a French Benedictine monk who left his homeland to live and work in India. Deeply Christian, he nevertheless entered profoundly into the mystical thought of Hinduism. A pioneer of mystical prayer, Abhishiktananda ventured into the realm of advaita, which leads to interior silence. Contemplative silence, in which a state of translucent emptiness occurs, effects a life of unceasing prayer, moment by moment;
emanating from the silence of this state of consciousness, compassion, service and energy flow to the benefit of all.
Introduction
In our pluralistic society, diverse religious traditions offer an opportunity not only for interreligious dialogue but also for interspiritual engagement, which has as its aim a deep appreciation of, respect for and engagement with the spiritual experience of the ‘other’. Post-modern spirituality
exhibits openness to the deep treasures of the wisdom traditions of the world, bringing with it respect for the other, without abandoning concern for individual and communal diversity. There is a ‘… more general shift from a static self-referential approach to the Christian life, to a more
dynamic or open-ended concept of the spiritual journey’ where the ‘other’ is no longer seen as a threat, which must be avoided, but rather to be welcomed ‘as an invitation into a deeper faith’ (Barnes 2005:33).1
Clearly, the differences between diverse religions relate to particular theological, cultural, religious and sociological parameters, affecting not only cognitive articulation of the tradition but also the very experiences of the adherents. Each is something sui generis – and this particularity is not to be underestimated. It is recognised that there are multiple dimensions and expressions of the sacred; it is therefore possible to be personally tolerant of diversity, while maintaining conceptual differences. However, while respective epistemological foundations may differ, nevertheless, mutual understanding and dialogue will facilitate respect for the autonomy of diverse traditions and enhance mutual enrichment. In addition, the realisation that symbols in diverse religious traditions are tensive and have a cluster of meanings that can neither be exhausted nor adequately expressed by any one referent leads to new angles of vision and a greater global renaissance.
Bearing these considerations in mind, the aim of this article is to consider the life and teaching of Dom Henri le Saux, O.S.B.2 (1910–1973), who left his homeland to live in India as a Christian missionary monk; and to consider how his journey into Hinduism effected a profound development in his mystical life.3
The question to be considered is as follows: can Henri le Saux be seen as a pioneer of interspirituality, and a bridge between two religious traditions in an era which was not particularly conducive to such an endeavour? To facilitate this enquiry, a preliminary discussion of interspirituality is in order.
The entire article can be accessed at: https://www.academia.edu/keypass/Yy9pSm ... card=title
Abhishiktananda (Henri le Saux, O.S.B) 1910–1973: Pioneer of interspiritual mysticism
Abstract:
There is no doubt that we live in an interspiritual age, although this is not unequivocally accepted in all sectors of religious and non-religious discourse. However, although, in the past, theological debate was primary, there has now been a welcome shift to shared experience. Interspiritual engagement has as its aim a deep appreciation of, respect for and engagement with the spiritual experience of the ‘other’. In order to glean some insights
regarding interspiritual mysticism, the aim of this article is to turn to a contemporary mystic for wisdom and guidance: Abhishiktananda (Dom Henri le Saux, O.S.B) (1910–1973) was a French Benedictine monk who left his homeland to live and work in India. Deeply Christian, he nevertheless entered profoundly into the mystical thought of Hinduism. A pioneer of mystical prayer, Abhishiktananda ventured into the realm of advaita, which leads to interior silence. Contemplative silence, in which a state of translucent emptiness occurs, effects a life of unceasing prayer, moment by moment;
emanating from the silence of this state of consciousness, compassion, service and energy flow to the benefit of all.
Introduction
In our pluralistic society, diverse religious traditions offer an opportunity not only for interreligious dialogue but also for interspiritual engagement, which has as its aim a deep appreciation of, respect for and engagement with the spiritual experience of the ‘other’. Post-modern spirituality
exhibits openness to the deep treasures of the wisdom traditions of the world, bringing with it respect for the other, without abandoning concern for individual and communal diversity. There is a ‘… more general shift from a static self-referential approach to the Christian life, to a more
dynamic or open-ended concept of the spiritual journey’ where the ‘other’ is no longer seen as a threat, which must be avoided, but rather to be welcomed ‘as an invitation into a deeper faith’ (Barnes 2005:33).1
Clearly, the differences between diverse religions relate to particular theological, cultural, religious and sociological parameters, affecting not only cognitive articulation of the tradition but also the very experiences of the adherents. Each is something sui generis – and this particularity is not to be underestimated. It is recognised that there are multiple dimensions and expressions of the sacred; it is therefore possible to be personally tolerant of diversity, while maintaining conceptual differences. However, while respective epistemological foundations may differ, nevertheless, mutual understanding and dialogue will facilitate respect for the autonomy of diverse traditions and enhance mutual enrichment. In addition, the realisation that symbols in diverse religious traditions are tensive and have a cluster of meanings that can neither be exhausted nor adequately expressed by any one referent leads to new angles of vision and a greater global renaissance.
Bearing these considerations in mind, the aim of this article is to consider the life and teaching of Dom Henri le Saux, O.S.B.2 (1910–1973), who left his homeland to live in India as a Christian missionary monk; and to consider how his journey into Hinduism effected a profound development in his mystical life.3
The question to be considered is as follows: can Henri le Saux be seen as a pioneer of interspirituality, and a bridge between two religious traditions in an era which was not particularly conducive to such an endeavour? To facilitate this enquiry, a preliminary discussion of interspirituality is in order.
The entire article can be accessed at: https://www.academia.edu/keypass/Yy9pSm ... card=title