Sufism: Manners & Their Meaning

Actions are lifeless forms,
but the presence of an inner reality of sincerity within them is what endows them with life-giving Spirit.

Ibn Ata'illah


The teachings of the Qur'an; the sunna, which is the example of Muhammad; and the example of all of the other Prophets, form the basis for traditional Sufi adab — beautiful action, the form of behavior which creates the conditions in which the attributes of God may be clearly reflected.



Ibn 'Arabi stated that Sufism is "to assume God's character traits as one's own," and it has been said that all of Sufism is, in fact, adab. The primary meaning of the Arabic root of adab is "to invite," or "to gather together for a banquet." Hospitality is regarded as sacred duty in Islam, and this linguistic connection illuminates the significance with which the relationship of guest and host, and the sharing of sustenance, are regarded. Accordingly, early treatises on adab address such matters in great detail, as do the customs of many contemporary Sufi orders.

The 10th century traveler Ibn al-Husayn al-Sulami set forth many details of the adab of table manners and hospitality in his Futuwah. He advised, "Give elaborate feasts, be gracious when entertaining, and be generous to your guests." A host is instructed to serve all the food he has to his brother, even if this means only a drop of water. Sulami suggests that if a guest's gift of food in turn is offered to the guest by the host, one "must be extremely careful of your manners," and cites Muhammad's advice, "Don't count your friend's mouthfuls."
Abu Zayd leaves al-Harith during the Pilgrimage. Illustration from Maqamat of al-Hariri, 13th century. Click for complete painting.

Around the year 1050 CE, Ali ibn Uthman al-Hujwiri summarized the prevailing wisdom on adab in his Kashf-al-Mahjub, the first Persian treatise on Sufism. Dervishes residing in community were exhorted to greet travelers with joy and respect, treat them as honored guests, and freely set before them whatever food they had.
They must not inquire whence he has come or whither he is going or what is his name, but must deem that he has come from God and is going to God and that his name is "servant of God." [...T]hey should not eat alone, but should unselfishly share their food with one another; and when seated at table they should not be silent, and should begin by saying "Bismillah"; and they should not put anything down or lift anything up in such a way as to offend their comrades, and they should dip the first mouthful in salt, and should deal fairly by their friend. Sahl ibn Abdallah al-Tustari was asked about the meaning of the verse, "Verily God enjoins justice and beneficence" (16:92). He replied, "Justice consists in dealing fairly with one's friend in regard to a morsel of food, and beneficence consists in deeming him to have a better claim to that morsel than yourself."
Furthermore, the Sufi should eat with his right hand and should look only at his own morsel, and while eating he should not drink unless he is extremely thirsty, and if he drinks he should drink only as much as will moisten his liver. He should not eat large mouthfuls, and should chew his food well and not make haste; otherwise he will be acting contrary to the custom of the Apostle (peace and blessings upon him), and will probably suffer from indigestion. When he has finished eating, he should give praise to God and wash his hands.
Hujwiri

The 12th century scholar Abu al-Najib al-Suhrawardi also wrote a treatise on adab which included instructions for conduct at meals and with guests, many of which echo those of Hujwiri. First in importance was that one should eat in company whenever possible, whether informally with companions, graciously with guests, or generously with the poor, and always with impeccable courtesy. One should eat only when hungry, and stop before becoming full.
Al-Hariri and his companions meet an old man, 5th/11th century. Click for larger image.

Suhrawardi also advised that travelers not carry food on their journeys. To do so constitutes an exercise of the quality of tawakkul — wholehearted faith in Allah as Provider, humility in the face of that fact, and acceptance of what is given — into a context in which one is most vulnerable. Hungry strangers who consciously leave the provisioning to God expose and confront their dependence on Divine grace, generosity and protection. Consequently, the conditions are created for others to serve as vehicles of those qualities.

According to Suhrawardi, the Sufi must greet and honor all guests, and share with them whatever pure food or drink is available without fuss or ceremony. The guest, in turn, should sit where placed by the host, and express appreciation. After Muhammad's example, every meal should begin with:
Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim
In the Name of God, the Infinitely Compassionate and Merciful

He instructed that only the Shaikh (the spiritual leader) should invite those at the table to begin the meal; and no one, especially the leader of the group, should leave the table as long as anyone else is eating. This recalls the custom of Muhammad, who was always the last person at the table to finish lest any companion be embarrassed to eat more than him. No fault should be found with the food, nor should it be praised; in fact, too much discussion of food is considered equal to gluttony. In eating, one should only satisfy one's hunger, and better with a small amount of pure food than a feast of impure food. Following the sunna, only three fingers of the right hand should be used for eating; small bites should be taken and the food chewed well. When sharing a common dish one should eat from the nearest side, not only out of courtesy and cleanliness, but because according to the counsel of Muhammad, baraka, the blessing power of God, descends first into the center of the dish. A meal should end with prayer, and might be followed by conversation, after which the guest should not leave until receiving permission from the host. In emulation of Muhammad's practice, the host should accompany the guest to the door.
Detail from carpet depicting Nur 'Ali Shah, 19th century shaikh of the Nimatullahi Order. Click for larger image.

The Nimatullahi Order's rules of the adab of service at dervish meetings offer a model of behavior relevant to life in the world at large. Those having the responsibility of service are chosen according to their inner potential, sincerity, good manners and gentle behavior; they are advised to treat everyone equally, regardless of wealth, parentage or social position. Neither must there be any discrimination on the basis of age; children are to be shown the same respect as adults. In distributing food and drink, the "dervishes of service" must "consider the circle" — the ancient Sufi custom of passing in a circular fashion, from right to left.

Although Hujwiri counseled dervishes to carry on pleasant conversations with guests, in some Sufi communities meals traditionally have been taken in silence.
Food is consumed to have the power to obey God. Hence that person who is engaged in eating with such an intention in mind is performing the essential act of obedience. And if someone is performing an act of obedience, for instance, saying prayers, how can he respond to the greeting of peace?
Abu'l Qasim Nawrabadi
When a Dervish is eating his food, it is his worship,
and during the worship neither should he be saluted
nor should he salute.
Qutubuddin Bakhtiyar Kaki
How could a morsel be digested without sight of Him,
without the view of His roses and His rose-garden?
Rumi

In many tariqats, the table is the setting for spiritual discourse: the Shaikh is the first to eat or speak, and participants pay close attention to exchanges with the Shaikh. Extraneous conversation is kept restrained and at low volume. The principle here is that without attention there can be no attunement, and without attunement there is no way to receive spiritual teaching and nourishment. Given the right circumstances, both food and exchange with one's spiritual teacher and companions — in words and in silence — may be transformed into energy, to be expended in conscious service.

Sufi teachings point to the potential nourishment in a meal beyond the bulk and chemical composition of the food. The senses are nourished by impressions arising from attention to the appearance, texture, flavor and aroma of food. Even subtler is the nourishment activated when food is prepared and eaten in a state of presence and love. And our hearts are nourished in loving exchange with our teachers and companions. Such nourishment feeds all centers of a human being.

The Mevlevi Order was founded by Sultan Veled, the son of Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi. According to its custom, if a dervish wanted a drink of water during a meal, he would motion to the water server, the saki. All present would stop eating so that none would eat more than another. The saki would pour the water, kiss the glass, and offer it to the thirsty one. In silence the dervish would kiss the glass and drink. When the glass was empty, the Shaikh would say "Ashk olsun," then everyone would continue to eat.
Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi. Click for larger image.

This phrase, "Ashk olsun" — "May it become love" — is a declaration of a dervish's best vision of the fate of any sustenance: that it be transformed within the human heart into conscious awareness of the Divine love that provided it in the first place.
Without Love, how could there be existence?
By what power could bread have entered you and become you?
Without your love and appetite, how could the bread
have encountered the spirit of life?
Love transforms dead bread into spirit:
it makes mortal spirit everlasting.
Rumi
Illustration from The Epistles of the Sincere Brethren: Authors and Attendants. Baghdad, 686/1287. Click for full painting.

The sunna and adab contain the highest levels of metaphor. For instance, on the custom of eating with three fingers, the Ikhwan al-Safa wrote:
One of the practices of the prophetic norm and the beautiful acts of right conduct is to use three fingers to partake of food, which is the nourishment of the body. In this custom the one who established the norm for souls seems to have made an allusion, admonishing and inciting them to seek knowledge from three routes. For knowledge is the nourishment of the soul, just as food is the nourishment of the body. And the states of the soul are similar to the states of the body, because the connection between the two is so strong.
One of the routes by which the soul partakes of knowledge is the faculty of reflection, through which the soul perceives the intelligible existents. By this route the prophets take revelation from the angels. The second route is hearing, by which the soul receives the meanings of words and the tidings of absent things denoted by the sounds. The last is the route of sight, by which souls witness existent things that are present.
Ikhwan al-Safa

On one level, the use of the right hand for eating is a hygienic measure born of cultural necessity; it also carries the symbolism of right and left. The auspicious right hand is associated with goodness, happiness, cleanliness, purity, blessedness, and consciousness of God; the left is associated with the opposite qualities. This imagery suggests the choices that can be made by creatures with will and intelligence. In like manner, the image of the descent of baraka into the middle of a serving dish contains a reminder that the dimensionless center of the human being is where the presence of God is felt. The sunna of accepting invitations acknowledges the value placed on community, sharing all levels of sustenance; in this context, refusal of an invitation implies alienation from community. The act of sharing food promotes remembrance of unity, and the interrelatedness of all creation.\\

http://www.superluminal.com/cookbook/essay_adab.html

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Ibn 'Arabī and Modern Thought

The intellectual authorities of modernity are legion and diverse. In relation to modern philosophy, sociology and psychology there has been a decided tendency for this sub-set of disciplines to legislate what counts as acceptable rational enquiry and what constitute legitimate claims to know. In modern philosophy, in particular, there have been attempts to demarcate legitimate knowledge from disreputable metaphysics directly in line with Kant's and Hume's concern to curb what were deemed to be the extravagances and excesses of the speculative human intellect. More generally, modern philosophy, sociology and psychology have been much influenced by the scientific and technological world-view of modernity, both in their theorizing and their preferred methodologies. There can be little doubt that the findings of (and debates within) these academic perspectives, both collectively and separately, raise serious questions about the whole concept of rationality and its epistemological credentials which have implications far beyond the disciplines themselves. These are questions which make it pertinent and timely to ask how these preferred epistemologies of modern thought look in the light of the metaphysics of Wahdat al-Wujud. What follows are some preliminary observations, which form the basis of a more extended study, entitled "Ibn 'Arabī: Degrees of Knowledge" and sub-titled "Modern Thought and the History of taking Metaphysics Seriously".

First of all, even with only a precursory understanding of Ibn 'Arabī's viewpoint, one can hardly fail to be struck by the alarming modern-ness and freshness of his insights and the somewhat astonishing glimpses they afford into the era and times in which we live. We, as it were, quickly become aware that in reading Ibn 'Arabī we are not dealing with some medieval theological fossil unrelated to modern times. It is one of the aims of the book (mentioned above) to show that, in fact, we are not dealing with a fossil at all but with the here and now. One might say that the reading of Ibn 'Arabī is capable of transforming one's view of the era of modernity: capable of reconceptualizing its metaphysical co-ordinates in order to bring out hitherto unnoticed features of its landscape. In short, we are presented with an invaluable opportunity to go beyond the self-descriptions of an age, particularly when this age is our own. In an important sense Ibn 'Arabī and modernity are at home and, perhaps contrary to some opinion, not at all essentially antithetical. This, I suggest, is for two reasons: firstly, because of the universality and generosity of his vision, and secondly, because of his understanding of what constitutes the Era and, in particular, by extrapolation, what constitutes the unprecedented nature and actuality of our own times. These two considerations (and much, much more) are encapsulated in that remarkable and evocative hadith rendered in Ismail Hakki Bursevi's translation and commentary on the Fusus al-Hikam by Ibn 'Arabī in the Chapter on Aaron as "Do not revile the era, because the era, it is God."[2]

First, then, a word about the inestimable influence of the universality and generosity of Ibn 'Arabī's vision on my understanding of the relationship between the metaphysics of Ibn 'Arabī and modernity. In this respect I would like to quote myself – that is, to read a small snippet from the first chapter of my book which deals with the book's specific orientation and the contribution it proposes to make to the study of Ibn 'Arabī. It is a theme of the book that there is an inescapable logical and historical entanglement between metaphysics and modern thought: a theme which would be lessened if it were not to include an understanding of a general feature of Ibn 'Arabī's metaphysical outlook which it is important to hold in view. This feature is difficult to pin down but it is extremely important – it is a kind of tolerance, openness and metaphysically-inspired generosity of outlook. It is the kind of outlook which will have nothing to do with the petty and the mean-spirited or the dogmatic and the intolerant. It is an outlook which continually re-affirms the great nature which God has essentially bestowed upon the human Self in making man in His image. There is a vastness about Ibn 'Arabī's metaphysics which makes it antithetical to any narrow religious fundamentalism or closedness and inflexibility of mind. In brief, Ibn 'Arabī's metaphysical writings reflect the strength, generosity and grandeur inherent in the vision of the original unity alluded to in the description Wahdat al-Wujud.

From the point of view of such an all-embracing outlook it becomes clear that any analytical treatment of modern thought such as the book proposes requires that we give to modern intellectual authorities (like philosophy, social science and psychology) their due place and value. That is, give to them at least the value and importance that any student of modern culture, history, philosophy, science or literature would give who has benefited from their intellectual force, content and forms of analyses. The theoretical architecture of modern thought will quite legitimately continue to "roam in its own specific playing field", to use Ibn 'Arabī's own locution. We must avoid any closedness or inflexibility of mind regarding it: for, in one sense, modern theoretical culture is an ever-open playing field capable of self-transformation. Or to put the matter in another way, it is fruitful to avoid any fundamentalist conceptualization of it, secular or otherwise. Modern thought reflexively encapsulates and refracts, in one way or another, the denying characteristics of our own era. It also exemplifies the predispositions of the intellectual authorities themselves. We need not conclude, therefore, that contemporary theoretical discourse is to be regarded as anything absolute or self-sufficient. If we allow that the intellectual authorities of modernity (and perhaps postmodernity?) to some extent reflexively encode the self-descriptions of the age, then to go beyond these descriptions is not to see them as groundless or worthless but to see them rather as limiting cases or particular theoretical frames of reference which illustrate, within the axiomatic co-ordinates of their respective domains, the principle of the immanencing of knowledge so vividly portrayed in the saying (often referred to by Ibn 'Arabī) "I conform to the opinion my servant has of me". There can be little doubt that this important principle is perfectly in keeping with the metaphysical largesse of Ibn 'Arabī's viewpoint.

But as we know, Ibn 'Arabī's is much more than a metaphysical theory. In fact, it is not primarily a metaphysical theory at all, although it can be to some extent metaphysically formulated as, for instance, Izutsu's classical study exemplifies. Again I quote from my own study:

What is clear is that the metaphysics of Ibn 'Arabī is not a personal intellectual construction of his own. To conceive it as such would be to misconstrue the whole point that the metaphysics of Wahdat al-Wujud intends to convey. It is precisely because it is not a personal intellectual construction that it avoids the accusation of being based on the extravagances of the human intellect. If such metaphysical insights concerning "the whole as a whole" are left off the intellectual agenda or left unaddressed one can never be sure that local, regional, cultural and intellectual preferences are not mistaken for a more universal point of view.

This point raises the whole question of the status and epistemological reliability of the intellectual constructions of modernity. Chapter Two of the book deals extensively with this philosophical question. It deals with the authority Ibn 'Arabī ascribes to reflective reason as a source of knowledge in the light of Kant's and Hume's attempt to curb the excesses of speculative reason and further in the light of the Kantian imperative for "the self examination of reason by itself". This leads to a careful consideration of two very influential intellectual constructions of the twentieth century: Logical Empiricism and Modern Existentialism. Of course, the Logical Empiricists were influenced very much by their interpretation and reading of another famous and equally influential twentieth century philosophical classic: Ludwig Wittgenstein's Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. For quite some time scientifically inspired Empiricist views of the nature of knowledge, especially scientific knowledge, became dominant in all kinds of academic areas including, in particular, modern philosophy and modern psychology. By contrast I chose to examine contemporary Existentialism because of its antithetical stance towards the dominance of a purely objective scientific attitude towards human knowledge. Between them these two contemporary schools of thought represented, on the one hand, a philosophy of the Object and, on the other hand, a philosophy of the Subject. And even more importantly they illustrated rather nicely the essentially contested nature of human intellectual constructions of this kind and degree of generality.[3] Nietzsche, that alleged inaugurator of modernity, called such views "expedient falsifications of reality" by which he meant that we must recognize the perspectival nature of all humanly constructed systems of knowledge. Of course, much post-empiricist and even postmodern theories of knowledge do recognize this and this perhaps is part of their appeal and strength. Again, quoting from my text:

Part of Ibn ' Arabi's strategy is, if we may employ a semantic item of much postmodern theorizing, to deconstruct and re-evaluate such partial human constructions from a more universal ontological vantage point. A universal viewpoint from which the whole creation is seen as possessing a perfectly rational structure in which "everything" has its allotted place, including human reason itself.

The point is that the contention that reason alone plays a decisive and unequivocal role in the theory-preferences of modernity is far from being borne out, even in such would-be rational procedures as natural science. In the theoretical discourses of philosophy, social science and psychology (the main areas with which the book deals) we can discern quite clearly – more clearly than one might at first be willing to admit – something of what Ibn 'Arabī meant by the insight that the self-disclosure of the Real conforms to the mental constructions or beliefs of the receptor. We can see rather clearly sometimes that their preferred pictures of reality and preferred epistemologies seem to be equally related to the fundamental predisposition of the person as much as to any processes of reason. Or, to re-orchestrate Hume's famous dictum, reason is the slave of predisposition. And a slave which, according to Ibn 'Arabī, can uncover at best a mere fraction of the nature of reality. The findings of unaided reason may sometimes be very useful and even astonishing but they are not only provisional, perspective-dependent and sometimes unreliable but they also do not constitute the epistemic means for arriving at the fullness of truth. Nothing becomes more apparent than this as the theoretical architecture of modernity has increasingly taken up Kant's challenge to submit reason to "the self-examination of reason by itself". What is equally interesting is that the prevailing cognitive map provided by the intellectual authorities of modernity (which in one form or another are being assimilated by more and more young people entering higher education) is recognizing, with an acute clarity, the historically positioned and perspective-bound nature of its own productions. Its self-descriptions are largely that: self-descriptions; perhaps the need to move beyond such descriptions will one day be widely and keenly felt. But for this to happen it might not be a bad idea to engage in an assessment of the value of these self-descriptions in a tolerant and generous manner befitting the metaphysics of unity so beloved by Ibn 'Arabī. My book may help to open a few doors in this direction: it will certainly hopefully ring a few intellectual bells. It is therefore a subtext of the present study that some of its potential readers might come to an understanding of the immediate and contemporary relevance of Ibn 'Arabī's thought not in spite of, but in view of their own acquaintance with the theoretical culture of modernity.

So one might say that initially it was the study of Ibn 'Arabī plus my own professional academic experience of teaching philosophy and modern thought which determined the orientation of the book and its epistemological emphasis on the nature and role of knowledge. It behoves us also to remember that contemporary theorizing in philosophy, sociology and psychology are themselves products of modernity: of modern, industrial, post-industrial technological and global society. In no earlier society could we have had, for example, the development of computational theories of mind – itself a central theoretical issue in modern cognitive science.

Chapter Three is therefore devoted to the very notion of the modern era: its logical contours and characteristics, the intellectual authorities who make it their study, and to an understanding of it vis-a-vis Akbarian metaphysics. It is perhaps this section of the book which touches most directly on the lived-experience of our own times: of the ubiquitous alignment of science and technology with the economic rationality and values of Industrial Capitalism, with the associated ideas of human progress and with the global economy.

Modernity has been described as "the greatest transformation in human history since remote times". This fundamental qualitative transformation began, according to the historian Eric Hobsbawn, in or about the 1780s.

As I express it in the text:

Thus begins modernity: the era of the Industrial Revolution, of Industrial Capitalism, of Science and Technology. There had, of course, been forms of science and technology long before this but it had never constituted a central defining characteristic of the era. And even more significantly, the adamantine alignment of science and technology with the rationality of Industrial Capitalism was unique in its history and strategic to its prodigious development.

This "Great Transformation", as it is often described, gave birth to a new kind of intellectual authority – Sociology, whose founder figures provided a series of conceptual maps of the landscape of modernity. The calling cards of modernity undoubtedly became science, technology and economics configured in a historically unique and unprecedented form. Modernity and its consequences became the subject matter of sociology both in the theorizing of its founding triumvirate, Marx, Durkheim and Weber, and its contemporary theorists, like Anthony Giddens. The promises of modernity have suffered some serious setbacks in the twentieth century and there are those critics who suggest that its benefits no longer outweigh its human cost. In one sense, modernity is facing a metaphysical crisis, which at its most abstract level is a crisis about rationality itself. As Giddens, amongst others, suggests, the ever increasing dominance of the economic rationality of Industrial Capitalism, the rationality of the global economy, the ubiquitous rationality of technology and science can be seen to be replacing "tradition" in all forms of life. Written into the logic of modernity, as it were, is the replacement of tradition by reason – or certain forms of reason – what Max Weber called "Zweck-rationality". In the twentieth century this has translated into an increasing sense of the sheer rapidity and intensity of social, cognitive, historical and global change which is a phenomenon that can bring with it a certain unsettling appreciation of the phrase "all that's solid melts into air". Or in Giddens' words:

Rather than these developments taking us "beyond modernity", they provide a fuller understanding of the reflexivity inherent in modernity itself. Modernity is not only unsettling because of the circularity of reason, but because the nature of that circularity is puzzling .. . Modernity turns out to be enigmatic at its core, and there seems to be no way in which this enigma can be "overcome". We are left with questions where once there appeared to be answers, and I shall argue subsequently that it is not only philosophers who realize this. A general awareness of the phenomenon filters into anxieties which press on everyone.[4]

In this sense reason is increasingly seen to be "human, only too human". In the book I conclude a quite extensive and detailed treatment of these issues with:

Both modernist and postmodernist theories of knowledge are human intellectual-constructions which, if we are to follow the warnings of Ibn 'Arabī, cannot arrive at "decisive certainty" concerning knowledge of "the Real". Modernism extols the efficacy of human reason and Postmodernism affirms its inevitable relativity. Both are simply theories of knowledge which, from the point of view of Akbarian metaphysics, lack the theophanic epistemological credentials of Wahdat al-Wujud. When Giddens asserts that "modernity is enigmatic at its core, and there seems to be no way the enigma can be 'overcome'", he is perhaps not only attesting to the inability of the "circularity of reason" to overcome this enigma but implicitly recognizing also the boundaries of reason's "own proper playing field". According to Ibn 'Arabī it is a kind of progress for reason to recognize its own epistemological boundaries for it attests to the incapacity of human beings to reach knowledge of the Real via unaided reason. The enigma of modernity can therefore be seen as indicating that we take seriously the possibility of alternative epistemic means of grasping and recognizing the theophanic significance of the era. We can perhaps be reminded of what George Berkeley records in The Principles of Human Knowledge: "We should believe that God has dealt more bountifully with the sons of men than to give to them a strong desire for knowledge which he has placed out of their reach."[5]

Before leaving this discussion on Ibn 'Arabī and the Era there is a final observation which it is useful to make. For Ibn 'Arabī, the modern Era, with its particular determining qualities of science, technology, calculative rationality, globalization, its polytheism of values and its matrix of meta-narratives testifies, like all eras, to the ontological fact "that every day He is engaged upon a task". The unique configuration of predominating qualities of the modern era are none other than part of the infinity and inherent contents of the Self-disclosure of Being in its love to be known. To envisage the Era in this manner or to contextualize it from the universal point of view of Ibn 'Arabī is not to alter phenomena, for they are what they are, but to begin to see "the theatre of manifestation" from its own point of origin and essence rather than it being coloured by the predisposition of a particular theorizer. That such a universal vision is existentially possible and attainable is at the heart of Ibn 'Arabī's metaphysics.

The final chapter and heart of the book is a look at what all this may mean for an understanding of the Self. It examines the question of the contribution of modern psychology to this central ontological issue. But perhaps enough has already been said to convey a fair idea of what prompted the writing and content of this book.

I could not finish, however, without profoundly acknowledging the generosity and tolerance of Bulent Rauf in providing the opportunity for a student steeped in the analytical tradition of twentieth century Western philosophy to engage in the study of Ibn 'Arabī. If this was not an act of sheer generosity and tolerance – I do not know what is.

-------------------
this article written by Peter Coates, source: www.ibnarabisociety.org

1. Reprinted from the Journal of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, Vol. XXV, 1999. An earlier version of this paper was presented at the Annual General Meeting of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabī Society in Oxford on 28 November 1998.

2. Ismail Hakki Bursevi's translation of and commentary on Fusus al-Hikam by Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabī. Rendered into English by Bulent Rauf. 4 vols (Oxford, 1986-91), Vol 4, p. 942.

3. From W. B. Gallie, 'Essentially Contested Concepts', Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, Vol. 56, 1955-56.

4. Anthony Giddens, The Consequences of Modernity (Cambridge, 1990), p. 39.

5. Vol. 35 (Chicago, 1987), p. 405.

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Theophanies and Lights in the Thought of Ibn 'Arabi

The Theory of Akbarian Theophanies

Ibn 'Arabi's idea of theophanies is closely tied in with his theories on being, knowledge and spiritual experience. More precisely, this idea forms the basis of his description of existence, knowledge and liberating experience. For the Master, existence, like knowledge and liberating experience, is only a reflection of theophanic effects and particular aspects of their universal manifestation. From this we already have an intimation of the importance of theophany and its major role in the thought of Ibn 'Arabi on three levels: existence, knowledge and the liberating experience of the human being.

Theophanies, Sources of Existence

Theophanies in the realm of being are manifestations of the divine Truth with regard to infinite perfection and eternal glory. God-Truth in Himself is an inexhaustible source of riches and splendors: He is the "Hidden Treasure" which longs to express itself and be known. God-Truth is Beauty and the property of beauty is to shine forth. He is Love whose nature is to give of itself The divine theophanies are essentially the outpouring of His Beauty, His Perfection and His Love which are expressed in the immense theatre of the universe. The Existential Theophanies taken as a whole comprise three levels which the Master calls hadarât (Presences or Dignities).

First level: Pure Essence. These are called existential theophanies of the Essence.

Second level: the Attributes. These are the existential theophanies of divine qualities.

Third level: Acts. These are the active existential theophanies since the nature of God or the divinity as such is Essence, Attributes and Action, personified by His Divine Names.

The existential theophanies of the divine Essence are the determinations of God in Himself, for Himself in His Essence transcending all manifestation and form. The world from which these theophanies and their radiance spring is that of Unity ('alam al-ahadiyya). In this universe, the divine Essence appears as beyond all description, name or qualification. It is the world of pure Essence considered as Mystery of Mysteries and Secret of Secrets from which the theophanies of the Essence originate, the mirror in which the absolute existential Reality is reflected.

The existential theophanies of divine Attributes are the determinations of God in Himself for Himself under the aspect of His intrinsic Names and Attributes. The world specified for this type of theophany is the Unicity ('alam al-wahda) of the Essence with Its Attributes. God-Truth manifests both in His Essence and in His intrinsic Perfection after his concealment as "Hidden Treasure

This appearance arises by the mediation of what Ibn 'Arabi calls the most holy emanation (al-fayd al-aqdas). In this particular world of theophanies the beings destined to incarnate appear in the form of immutable realities.

The existential theophanies of divine Action are the extrinsic effects of divine Power in the manifest world. The world where these theophanies are exercised and revealed is called by the Master 'alam al-Wahdâniyya, the Unity in its three aspects: Essence-Attribute-Action. It appears by the way of the holy emanation (al-fayd al-Muqaddas): a universe where God manifests Himself in the form of eternal realities encompassing species and individuals, sensible forms and abstractions.

God-Truth alone is, then, the principle and source of existential theophanies. He contains the theophanies in their many dimensions. As we have just seen, the theophanies revolve around the Essence, Attributes and Actions. They do not come from nothing nor do they return to nothing. From the fact that God is at the centre of the existential theophanies, the source of their manifestations and many dimensions, they are nothing but the manifestation of the Absolute and cannot be dissociated from Him. They come from God-Truth and return to Him.

Thus the existential theophanies are manifested in the three levels of Being: ahadiyya (Unity) - wahda (Unicity) - wahdâniyya (Unification), according to the modes of Essence, Attributes and intrinsic and extrinsic Action. That, in substance, is Ibn 'Arabi's theory of theophanies. It is different on the one hand from the idea of emanation (al-fayd) cherished by the philosophers, and on the other hand from the idea of creation advocated by the Moslem theologians (mutakalimun), even if certain aspects and conclusions coincide.

The fundamental difference which distinguishes Ibn 'Arabi from the philosophers is the Master's notion of the Unity of Being in its creative act, which is at the base of all existential manifestations, whilst the philosophers favour the notion of the multiplicity of Being. Ibn 'Arabi considers Being as an unconditional absolute (mawjûd-la-bi-shart) beyond all duality or multiplicity. According to him, the multiplicity which we observe at the sensible or spiritual levels does not affect the Unity of Being in its creative act. It simply represents its various degrees and many states. The existential theophanies, therefore, only constitute a facet of the Absolute-God who is One in His existence and many in His manifestations. One sees how the philosophical theory of emanation goes against that of Ibn 'Arabi. For the philosophers, Absolute Being is subject to a negative condition (mawjûd-bi-shart-la) from which the possibility of the multiplicity of being within the manifest follows, at every level, spiritual or material.

The major difference which divides the Akbarian idea of theophany and the theologians' notion of creation, hangs on the understanding of the existential multiplicity as a divine action outside of Being in its Essence and its Attributes on the part of the theologians, who do not distinguish between Essence, Attributes or Action within the divinity. Ibn 'Arabi, on the contrary, conceives of the many aspects of creation as an effect of the existential theophany itself in act in the manifold modes of manifest existence. The theophanies of Act, like those of Attributes and Essence, revolve in the divine sphere: they are the expressions of Its absolute Perfection. For the Master, nothing is external to the divinity and nothing can exist outside of the Absolute.
Theophanies, Sources of Knowledge and Spiritual Realisation

As we have seen, the Akbarian theory of theophanies is not limited to the sphere of existence, it is related to knowledge and spiritual realisation. The divine theophanies are the origin of sensible and spiritual knowledge, the mainspring of its evolution and the domain of its diffusion. They are the eternal archetypes which, by lighting up the mirror of the heart and the intellect, give rise to experiential knowledge and Certainty. In reality, the links between being and knowledge are sufficiently strong to provoke the expansion and evolution of consciousness because the most subtle part of the human being is his intelligence and his heart: they are the quintessence of man himself, the heart is the receptacle of gnosis and the intellect is the centre of knowledge. This is how Ibn 'Arabi defines theophany as the basis of knowledge: "It is what reveals itself to the heart in the lights of the Invisible." This definition enlightens us on the nature of knowledge, its source, its means, and its object. Knowledge is the unveiling of the deep reality of things, its essence, before the gnostic. This unveiling works symbolically by the opening of the heart under the influence of the divine theophanies which project their lights into the heart.

This allows us to grasp the nature of knowledge and the relationship established between being and knowledge, principally at the level of the human condition. It thus renders credible the thorny questions which one asks oneself, such as:

- What is the intermediary between being and knowledge?

- How is knowledge transformed into being in the heart of the gnostic?

- How does being in turn become knowledge in the heart of the gnostic?

Light is the link which binds being to knowledge. It is the crucible of the final transmutation. It is through It and in It that the nature of knowledge is transformed into being in the heart of the gnostic. Just as the nature of being in turn is transformed into knowledge, and it is then that the most subtle mysteries are revealed in the inmost depths of his heart and the reality of things appears to him in their archetypal form.

When Light shines on the mirror of the heart it is gradually diffused in the same manner as the irradiation of the existential theophanies. Each particle of Light projects spiritual knowledge according to distinctive nuances of colour. One may thus differentiate between what the Master calls:

(a) nûr al-anwâr (The Light of lights). This comes from the essential theophanies of absolute Truth. Ibn 'Arabi sometimes calls it "the dazzling irradiations" which provoke the annihilation of the being and cannot be perceived by him except in the most intimate secret of his heart (as-sirr). This secret of the heart is an uncreated substance, of celestial origin, by which man gains access to the superior angelic and divine world. It is the theophany of the Light of lights which reveals the absolute reality in its most transcendent aspect, and causes certainty at its highest degree to be born in the heart. Ibn 'Arabi calls this form of knowledge haqq-al-yaqîn (absolute Certainty), and it is the fruit of direct experience.

(b) anwâr al-ma'âni (The Light of the intellect). By this term, Ibn 'Arabi refers to the intellectual knowledge transmitted by these theophanies at the moment of their irradiation in the heart. This light is the way of access to the meaning of Truth as it is grasped by human intelligence. Thanks to it man sees the reality of existence in the world of Unicity with the eye of the heart. He also perceives the link which unites all things to God. Thanks to the irradiation of the theophany of the Light of the intellect in the heart, Certainty is established ('ayn al-yaqîn) - the Certainty which comes from direct vision.

(c) anwâr al-tabi'â (The Light of nature). This refers to the learning and knowledge which human reason acquires under the influence of the existential theophanies in Act. It is here that the gnostic and the philosopher concur in the acquisition of learning. At this level, they join together in studying the exterior phenomena of existence: their appearance, their evolution and their disappearance. But the gnostic perceives them as an effect of the celestial lights propelled on to the stage of outward existence whilst at the same time detecting beneath the surface the shadow of the superior Being. Thus, in the world of multiplicity the sublime signs of the world of Unification appear to him. Philosophers and learned men only see isolated earthly phenomena. The influence of the theophanies of the lights of nature produces in the heart a form of knowledge called ilm al-yaqîn (Certainty arising from knowledge).

The world of Unity is the domain where the existential theophanies of the divine Essence are manifested; the world of Unicity is the domain of theophanies of divine Attributes; the world of Unification is the domain where the divine theophanies occur, extrinsically and intrinsically, in Act. Knowledge and illumination at the level of being follow the same process.

The theophanies of the Essence at the level of being are comparable to the theophanies of the Light of lights at the level of knowledge. The theophanies of Attributes at the level of being are comparable to the theophanies of the Light of the intellect at the level of learning. The theophanies of Acts at the level of the being relate to the theophanies of nature at the level of knowledge of matter. There is therefore a perfect concordance between the three forms of unity of the theophanies of Being and those of knowledge.
Theophanies and Liberating Experience

For Ibn 'Arabi, the theophanies of lights are the sources of gnosis and knowledge, and transmit learning and knowledge through the organs of man's senses in the form of waves of light. As we have already said, lights are the principles of existence in Ibn 'Arabi's perception and it is due to the effect of their emanation and diffusion that things move and come to life. Knowledge and existence are joined together in human consciousness at the level of the spiritual plane and man's ultimate destiny. For man light is, therefore, principle, means and end. It is at the origin of his condition of being for it is an integral part of his constitution and of all elements of life -simple or complex. It is also the channel through which man subsists on the material and spiritual planes. It is both food and drink and the essence of sensible, rational and spiritual knowledge. Lastly, it is the final destiny of man for it is through it that immortality is achieved.

If what we have just explained comes from the truth, it is easy for us to grasp the close links which exist between the notions of theophany and liberating experience. That leads us to examine this particular aspect of Ibn 'Arabi's thought, viz. liberating experience which is the pivot of his general theory of divine existential theophany. It is thanks to the divine theophanies that the man on the Way is guided in his quest for perfection through the stages and abodes up to the highest station. The spiritual knowledges which irradiate his being are intangible realities which spring from the source of absolute Truth. They fill his heart with joy and happiness; they arouse in him the taste for perfection and the desire to attain saintliness. They penetrate the whole of his being, his thought, his will, his sensibility, his consciousness, his feelings and his aspirations, transformed into energies of light and fire. Then the man becomes a living witness to purity, saintliness and redemption.

The Stages, Abodes and Stations are the components of the Temple of walâya: human-divine friendship in Islam. They are its composition and meaning. For Ibn 'Arabi this building material comes from the divine theophanies, whether they manifest on the plane of being or knowledge.

The Stages (al-ahwâl) result from psychological or spiritual influences which affect the man of the Way during his progress towards the God-King. We might mention Ecstasy (wajd), Annihilation ('istilâm), Happiness (bast), Despondency (qabd), Awakening (sahû) Drunkenness (sukr), etc... They arise like flashes on the horizon, blinding flashes of lightning which straight away disappear. However, these stages are necessary for the liberating experience of man; thanks to them he may distinguish the contingent from the permanent, the ephemeral from the eternal, until there no longer remains in his consciousness anything except that which is destined to endure.

The Abodes (manâzil) are the spiritual places of the divine Sphere. They are the luminous oases of eternal paradise, the palace of Truth. The man of the Way takes refuge there, and rests after the vicissitudes of his quest and his struggle. There he finds the shadow of light, rays of knowledge and the joy of saintliness.

Finally, the Stations (maqâmât) are the topmost foundations of walaya: the moral distinctions and spiritual degrees accorded to the men of the Way. They constitute the stabilising element of liberating experience.

According to Ibn 'Arabi, al-fanâ' (extinction) is the apex of the Stages; al-baqâ' (permanency) the apex of the Abodes; al-yaqîn (certainty) the apex of the Stations. Each one of these manifestations assumes three distinct forms and at the same time is in close and constant relationship with the divine theophanies in their existential and gnostic manifestations.

Al-fanâ' (extinction) is a sort of mental, yet real, death. The man of the Way experiences it freely; it is the final passage which leads to the summit of the Stages. It liberates man from all contingency outside of his spiritual quest; his ultimate aim is the Truth. Three degrees may be distinguished here: fanâ' of acts, attributes and essence.

The Sufi fanâ' in its triple manifestation does not have an exclusively negative effect or action; it is the annihilation of everything contingent, whether this be in the form of action, attribute or essence; more precisely, it is the annihilation of everything that is not God, and God - may His Name be praised - is the supreme object of all good, all beauty. Fanâ' thus conceived is an internal state which requires from the Sufi a sustained and permanent effort of concentration to break his fetters and take on the demands and calls of truth, by his acts, his moral virtues, his whole being. That implies perfect control of himself: in words, deeds and thoughts. It is at this price that he attains an interior spiritual state where he becomes the pure and clear mirror in which the lights of Truth are reflected in all their splendour.

The state of baqâ', permanency, is life with God, through God, in God, for God. It is the summit of the mystical Abodes in the waiting for the Beloved. Here there are also three degrees, each one referring to a particular aspect of the divine theophanies as principle of existence and its qualitative evolution: faith - knowledge - grace.

The first aspect of the Sufi permanency is situated at the level of acts. The action of the Sufi is here united with the divine action acquiring its order, harmony and durability. This specific degree of Sufi baqâ' is the result of the shooting forth of the divine theophany as existential principle and the lights of nature as source of knowledge.

The second aspect of permanency is situated at the level of qualities and attributes. Here human virtues are raised to the level of the divine Attributes, acquiring their perfection, dignity and durability: such that the man's heart attains to a spiritual abode where it is the pure and clear mirror on which the characteristics of the supreme Creator are engraved. In its turn, the power of acts in the abode of permanence becomes a docile instrument by which the divine plans in the world and within the living person, are realised. This particular form of baqâ' is a reflection of the divine existential theophanies at the level of the Attributes and Qualities, and the effect of the lights of the intellect as principle of knowledge.

The last degree of baqâ' is permanency of the essence. In this domain the essence of the servant is raised to the height of the divine Essence in its Unity, Sublimity and Universality. He is totally absorbed by the divine Life. It is through God that he sees, through Him that he hears, through Him that he expresses his will, through Him that he contemplates. This is the most perfect form of Sufi baqâ', the final stage of the hero's quest. This particular abode is in its turn acquired by the effect of the theophanies of the Essence on the existential plane and by the effect of the theophanies of Light at the gnostic level.

But in what form does man receive these three degrees of fanâ'? How can he realise his quest for permanency which is the pinnacle of the abodes of heroes? In short, what is the mount which allows the Sufi to realise the state of fanâ' and baqâ'? By means of divine Love is the Master's reply. Only Love is capable of guaranteeing us access to the degrees of fanâ' and baqâ'. Let us hear Ibn 'Arabi, in his symbolic and poetic language, describe to us the experience of fanâ' in its various modes and the degrees of baqâ' in the shadow of Love and the presence of the Beloved, God-Truth:

My Beloved, joy of my eyes
You are me as Myself, there where I am My companion at every moment
- May God be glorified! -
You are my essence
Hand in hand let us enter together into the presence of the only Beloved
Let there be no more distinction between us Becoming One in Reality
Oh, how wonderful a thought
and what subtle blending:
"The transparency of the glass, the purity of its contents become identical causing confusion:
Is it the glass or is it the wine that we see? "
All life in the universe vanishes
Moons are eclipsed, the sun disintegrates, the stars explode.
We are thus thrice annihilated.
Similar to annihilation itself
And we attain to the three degrees of Permanency
Following the example of Permanency itself.

Certainty (al-yaqîn) is the summit of the Stations, as we have already seen. By it the Temple of walâya is fully completed. This is the repository of liberating experience in Islam. In relation to the exoteric religious life Certainty is the sister of religious life in its perfection (ihsân), that is to say the adoration of God - may He be exalted - according to the visionary way; through this channel it is the pillar of Islam in the accomplishment of its external practices, as it is the foundation of faith (imân) in its internal dogma. It is in fact ihsân which gives the external religion its true meaning and the domain of faith its real values.

Certainty (al-yaqîn), like Permanency and Extinction, comprises three degrees. The first degree is referred to by the Master and by current Sufis by the name 'ilm al-yaqîn (the knowledge of Certainty), which means that Certainty is the result of knowledge. At this degree the object of Certainty is knowledge just as the aim of knowledge is Certainty. Both together are in the soul uniquely, such that Certainty is the first degree of spiritual life and the last of speculative experience. This particular degree of mystical yaqîn is the result of divine theophanies in Act at the level of existence and also the result of theophanies of lights of nature at the gnostic level.

The second degree of yaqîn is what one calls in Sufi terms 'ayn al-yaqîn (the Eye of Certainty), that is, Certainty as a consequence of contemplation and vision. At this level, the object of Certainty is present in front of the gnostic and is not only a speculative concept. Here knowledge becomes what one calls 'ilm-hudûrî (Presence of knowledge), and that is the second aspect of Certainty in the spiritual way and in liberating experience. By this kind of knowledge, the man of the Way is distinguished from philosophers and learned men. This particular degree of spiritual Certainty is the result of divine theophanies of Attributes at the level of existence, just as it is the result of theophanies of lights of the intellect at the level of gnosis.

Finally, the last degree of yaqîn is called haqq al-yaqîn (the total reality of Certainty), that is, Certainty as supreme truth. Here, Certainty has a particular colouring: it is the fruit of an all-embracing experience because the object of Certainty is identical to the one who is experiencing it, knowledge being transformed into actual experience and actual experience into knowledge. At this stage, in fact, knowledge is not limited to the intellect, nor to the vision of the one who is contemplating it, it becomes one with the human being. This is the final phase of yaqîn, the apotheosis of the spiritual and intellectual journey. This high degree of Sufi Certainty is the effect of the Emanation of the divine Theophanies in Essence at its existential level and that of the diffusion of the Light of lights (Dazzling Irradiations) at the level of the theophanies of the gnostic.

Translated from the French by Cecilia Twinch

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source: www.ibnarabisociety.org

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The Mystery of Numbers by Annemarie Schimmel

there is an integer between three and five, but it is not four, and its true name and nature are not to be revealed.

The Mystery of Numbers is a rather odd book. It begins with a very brief introduction to different number systems and beliefs about numbers, covering the Pythagoreans, gnosticism, the Cabala, Islamic mysticism, medieval numerology and numerical puzzles. The bulk of the book is a kind of encyclopedia of numbers: each of the numbers up to 21 gets its own chapter; after that they are dealt with "en masse". Each chapter is an unordered and pretty much unstructured compilation of beliefs about the subject number, mostly drawn from Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. There is no attempt at cross-cultural comparative analysis, or at relating beliefs about numbers to other symbolic systems. Schimmel shows off an immense knowledge of historical and literary detail, but doesn't even try to synthesize it into more than a collection of random tidbits. Here is a typical extract:

In philosophy and psychology, 3 serves as the number of classification: time, space, and causality belong together. Since Plato, the ideal has been taken to be composed of the good, the true, and the beautiful, while Augustine established the categories of being, recognizing, and willing. The Indian Chandogya Upanishad likewise mentions several triadic groups, such as hearing, understanding, and knowledge, and in the later Upanishads, the 3 basic values that express the fullness of the one divine being are sat, chit, and ananda (being, thinking, and bliss).

According to the doctrine of the Zohar, the world was created from 3, namely wisdom, reason, and perception, manifested in the fathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. For the Cabalists, the uppermost triad of the ten sefirot represents the potencies of perception; the medium triad, the primordial powers of spiritual life; and the lowest triad, the primordial power of vitality. Manichaeism knows 3 ways, and the Temple of the Grail has 3 gates, those of right faith, chastity, and humility.

and so on (the chapter on 3 runs to 28 pages). This is fine for a few chapters, but it soon gets rather tedious.

The Mystery of Numbers is not a book anyone would want to read in one go, and many will find it completely unapproachable; I read the introduction and the first few chapters, then skimmed quickly through the rest. It could be used as a reference, for answering questions like "What is the significance of the number five in this poem?", but the lack of structure will hinder this (though there is a decent index). I thought this was a rather disappointing treatment of what should be an interesting subject.

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reviewed by http://dannyreviews.com

Publication Data: The Mystery of Numbers, by Annemarie Schimmel. Oxford University Press, 1994. Paper, 314 pp. ISBN 0-19-508919-7

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An Introduction to Sufism

by
Zakir Hussain

A paper presented to
Dominion Lodge No 117
A.F. & A.M. G.R.A.
On 11th February 1998

With minimal editing by Syed Mumtaz Ali, in deference to the learned author's gratuitous request and his kind remarks: "I am pleased and honoured that you consider this essay worthy of a wider audience. Please feel free to edit and/or add additional notes as you deem fit."

# What is Sufism?
# Origin and Background
# Formative Years
# Orders and Lodges
# Rituals and Practices
# The "Path" - Its Teachings and Tenets
# Sufi Literature and Poetry
# Sufi Music and Dance
# Contemporary Sufism
# Conclusion


What is Sufism?

Sufism is the mystical dimension of Islam based on the esoteric, or "inner-meaning" of its scripture, namely the Qur'an. Sufism's central doctrine is based on a verse of the Qur'an; in which God says, "I created man and breathed My spirit into him." This "Divine spark" placed into every individual, says the Sufi, must be nurtured and cherished. Furthermore, each individual "spark" or "spirit" separated from the Universal Spirit, desires to return and reunite with the Universal spirit. This is confirmed by another verse in the Qur'an, which says "from God we came, and to God shall we return." This "returning" is vital and central to the Sufi doctrine. Now, the Sufi embarks on a spiritual journey known as the Sufi Path; a path of devotion and love; which leads to none other than God Himself. I shall have more to say [about this] ater on.

Origin and Background

The word "Sufi is derived from the Arabic word "suf," meaning "wool," Garments woven from wool were generally worn by early mystics, who came to be known as "Sufis," There are other explanations and meanings of the word 'Sufi' but the one I have just given is generally accepted by most Sufis and Sufi scholars. Sufism is known in Arabic as 'Tassawuf' or Islamic Mysticism. A Sufi is a mystic, if by "mystic" we mean a person who strives towards intimate knowledge or communion with God; through contemplation, meditation and or "inner-vision."

The origin of Sufism goes back to the Prophet Muhammad, the Prophet of Islam, who received the Divine Revelation known as the 'Qur'an,' over a period of 23 years. As all Muslims know; the Holy Qur'an is a "multi-layered revelation," whose verses can be interpreted literally, metaphorically, philosophically, and mystically.

The Prophet used to explain and clarify the meaning of each chapter and verse of the Qur'an to his immediate friends and companions. To a select few of his Companions he explained the mystical interpretation of the verses; thus starting a "chain of transmission" of the esoteric meaning of the Qur'an. This was conveyed first by "word of mouth" from master to pupil or disciple. This oral tradition has continued from generation to generation to the present day. It is interesting to note that the "Sufi pledge" between a Sufi-master and his disciple is still an oral one. It was much later that Sufi teachings and practices were formally [laid] down in writing for future generations.

Formative Years

The formative years of Sufism were between 620 to 1100 AD. It was during this time the Sufi masters, known in Arabic as "Shaikhs," started to form the first Sufi fraternities. These early fraternities, and indeed some individual Sufis, met with great hostility and resistance from certain sections of the Muslim community; on points of interpretation of Islamic Theology and Law. Some early Sufis were even persecuted on account of their mystical utterances and beliefs. The most famous Sufi-martyr was AL HALLAJ of Basra in Iraq.

Nevertheless, individual Sufis achieved great eminence because of their piety and practices. The well-known among them are RABIA BASRI (a [female] Sufi Teacher), JUNAID, IBRAHIM ADHEIM, and HASAN BASRI.

Perhaps the most notable one was the great theologian and philosopher AL GAZALLI who lived in Syria around 1100 AD. His famous treatises, called the "Reconstruction of Religious Sciences," the "Alchemy of Happiness," and other works; set off to convince the Islamic world that Sufism and its teachings originated from the Qur'an and were compatible with mainstream Islamic thought and theology. It was AL-GAZALLI who bridged the gap between traditional and mystical Islam. It was around 1000 AD that the early Sufi literature, in the form of manuals, treatises, discourses, and poetry, became the source of Sufi thinking and meditations.

Orders and Lodges

Around 1200 AD Sufism was institutionalized into Sufi orders. Generally, the political atmosphere from North Africa to India was "ripe" for the formation of Sufi orders. Under the patronage of kings and sultans, prominent Sufi masters received financial grants to build lodges and hospices to house the master; his disciples, students, novices and even travellers. The lodges soon became schools of Sufi learning and scholarship. Attached to the lodges were other places of learning, such as colleges and universities; where students could learn Islamic law and theology, philosophy, and natural sciences.

The most prominent Sufi master of the day became the "founder" of a particular Sufi order. One of the well-known orders is the "Qadiryya" founded by the great Sufi-master ABDUL QADIR GILANI in Iraq. Others were founded in different parts of the Islamic world by Sufi-masters such as JALALUDDIN RUMI in Turkey, SUHARWARDY in Asia minor, and MUINUDDIN CHISHTI in India. Although each order had a regional flavour, their basic teachings and practices remained fundamentally the same. Because of this, a mutual respect and admiration exists between various orders. Hence, a Sufi may belong to more than one order.

It was between 1200 - 1500 AD that Sufis and Sufism enjoyed a period of intense Sufic activity in various part of the Islamic world. Hence this period is considered as the "Classical Period" or the "Golden Age" of Sufism. Lodges and hospices soon became not only places to house Sufi students and novices but also places for "spiritual retreat" for practising Sufis and other mystics.

Some of the original orders, which I mentioned before, along with new ones are to be found in the Middle and Far East, India, Africa and various parts of Europe and North America. It is estimated, that presently, there are some 40 Sufi Orders in the world.

Rituals and Practices

Now, I should like to talk about the Sufi rituals and practices. It is rather difficult to summarize all the practices and rituals associated with the various orders. However, there are certain practices common to all the orders. They are:

1 Ritual prayer and fasting according to Islamic injunctions.
2. Remembrance of the "spiritual lineage" of each order.
3. The practice of "dhikr," an Arabic word for remembrance of God, by invocation.
4. Meditative and contemplative practices, including intensive spiritual training, in "spiritual retreats" from time to time.
5. Listening to musical concerts, to enhance mystical awareness.

The ritual of "initiation" into the order is ordained by the Sufi master of that particular order.

Aspiring novices had to undergo a period of intense training in self-discipline, learning to control one's instincts and desires, guided by the Sufi-master. It was the master who would eventually decide if the novice was ready to be initiated into the order. The "initiation" was and still is a "solemn pledge" by the novice to obey the master implicitly in all matters, spiritual and moral. The master in turn pledges to instruct, teach and guide the "new initiate" along the Sufi path. The initiation really symbolizes that the initiate or disciple is now ready to understand the "inner truth" of spiritual realities. Realities which can only be experienced and understood by "intuitive knowledge," Knowledge which stems from the "heart," rather that the "mind."

The practice of "dhikr" is the central feature in all Sufi orders. "Dhikr" is the Arabic word for the devotional practice of the "remembrance of God," It is performed by the repeated invocation of the Names and Attributes of God. It is based on the Qur'anic verse in which God says "Remember Me and I will remember you," The practice of "dhikr" may vary in different orders; but its ultimate object is to create spiritual awareness and love for God. It can be practiced individually, or collectively. Some orders perform it silently and some loudly; all under the direction of the Sufi master.

It should be noted that "dhikr" is not exclusive to the Sufis [for] it is practiced by all Muslims as part of Islamic prayer and devotion.

Another important practice in Sufism is what is called "Sema," or "Sama' " which literally means "listening," These auditions may be a recitation from the Holy Qur'an, or devotional poetry. Throughout the centuries, Sufi poets have written mystical poetry for devotional purposes and some have even been set to music. Listening to musical concerts, as part of Sufi devotion, is permitted and practiced by certain Sufi orders.

A Sufi Order known as the 'Mevlevi Order" founded by the Sufi master Jalaluddin Rumi, who lived in Turkey around 1200 AD, permits a "mystical dance" known in the west as the dance of the Whirling Dervishes. To appreciate the significance of this dance,it is necessary to be aware of its symbolic interpretation and meaning.

Veneration of Sufi Saints is a common practice amongst Sufis. Devout Sufi masters who led highly devotional and spiritual lives were elevated to sainthood. The Sufis believe that a Sufi saint (although dead for hundreds of years) can still make his "spiritual presence" felt to his disciples Hence, it is common practice among Sufis to visit [the] tombs of Sufi saints to pay homage, recite Sura Fateha and/or other Quranic passages, pray to God for isa-e-thawab (i.e. praying to God that the rewards of such recitations be bestowed on the dead), and ask for the deceased saint's blessings. There is no formal procedure, or official appointment, or proclamation, similar to the practices of other religions used for the canonisation of saints.

Other practices, include ritual prayer, fasting, and meditation, as directed by the master. Finally a Sufi may, under the strict guidance of his master, enter into a "spiritual retreat," for a fixed period (usually between 3 to 40 days, or for 24 hours) for intensive prayer and meditation, and daytime fasting. It is best to remember here that all these practices are to prepare the Sufi for the "spiritual journey" along the Sufi path; a path which leads towards God through love and devotion.

The Path - Its Teachings and Tenets

I shall now try to outline briefly some of the principal teachings and tenets of Sufism. The Sufi firmly believes that each individual spirit desires union with the Universal Spirit, namely God, after death. Furthermore, he believes that it is possible to "experience" God in this life! This kind of experience is described by Sufis as supra-sensory, ultra-mystical, and even "visionary," It must be emphasized here that this kind of "experience" has been achieved by only the elite! Nevertheless, this is the goal of every Sufi.

Sufism teaches that the Sufi who seeks God, must advance by slow "stages" along the Path. The "stages" relate to repentance, followed by abstinence, renunciation, 'poverty', patience and trust in God. These stages constitutes the ethical and ascetic disciplines of Sufism. Total commitment at each stage is vital towards the spiritual progress of the Sufi.

The individual soul is called "nafs" in Arabic. Sufism teaches that the soul initially is a "demanding soul," which can be and should be disciplined into a "contented soul," and subsequently into a "soul at peace." These characteristics of the soul are described at length in the Qur'an and commented upon by Sufi teachers and scholars.

Sufism's primary teaching is based on the Unity of God called "tawheed" in Arabic. Its emphasis is on the "Oneness" and "Uniqueness" of God. This concept of Unity leads to the realization of Unity which embraces multiplicity in the Universe. This may sound paradoxical, but Sufi writers and theologians (both classical and modern) have written volumes on this subject, with particular emphasis on explaining various aspects, or grades of manifestation, in terms of immanence and transcendence.

Sufis believe that God's earliest creation was the human "intellect." Giving humans the knowledge to discern, and to choose between right and wrong, good and evil. This knowledge in Sufism is raised to a higher level, which arises from the "heart" rather than the "mind." It is this intuitive knowledge that distinguishes a mystic from a philosopher. It is through the practice of intuitive knowledge that a Sufi experiences mystical phenomena and visions.

The central doctrine of Sufism, however is love, divine love. The Qur'an teaches that "God's mercy is greater than His wrath" and that "God's love is His supreme attribute." The Sufi does NOT reject, but instead believes in the doctrine and the concepts of the 'Fear of God' and 'God's wrath of the Day of Judgement." The Sufi maintains that obedience to God's commands should ensue NOT out of the fear of punishment of Hellfire or for the desire of the pleasures and bounties of Paradise as a reward, but rather with the sincere motive and intention of attaining proximity to God - purely for the sake of, and solely for the pleasure of God. To the Sufi, Paradise (as a reward) and Hell (as a punishment) are but graphic terms to make us understand a state of things which is beyond all our notions of life in this world. The Sufi longs for what is beyond Paradise, the vision of God Himself - the ultimate reward after entering Paradise. And nothing would be lovelier than gazing upon the Lord when He removes his 'veil' (His 'garb of grandeur'). The Sufi attests that God has created man with a mind, free-will, and love. Therefore the mainspring of Sufism is love. Based on this, the Sufi path becomes a 'Path of Love,' where the Sufi becomes the 'lover' and God the 'beloved.' This love affair ends only with the ultimate union with the Beloved. This love relationship is depicted in most volumes of Sufi literature and poetry.

Sufi Literature and Poetry

As has been previously mentioned, earlier Sufism was based on an oral tradition, but around 1000 AD, its teachings and doctrines were put into writing. For the next four centuries, Sufi literature flourished in the form of manuals, mystical tales and anecdotes, treatises on Islamic theology, philosophy, metaphysics and mystical poetry.

Sufi manuals were for the instruction and practice of new "initiates," in various orders. They took a form of "master-disciple" instruction on correct behaviour and conduct within the order. They also dealt with strict "obedience" to the master, methods of "dhikr" and meditation, and also with piety and devotion to God. A famous classical manual is by IBN ARABI called, "Journey to the Lord of Power," which is a handbook on spiritual retreat.

Tales and anecdotes in the form of literature are really meant as "teaching tales," with the purpose of driving home a moral or mystical point. Some of the tales are elaborate and allegorical in their content. A classical example is ATTAR's "Conference of the Birds," and SA'DI's "The Rose Garden," and many others by Arabic and Persian authors and poets.

Classical Sufi treatises on the nature and essence of Sufism and Islamic theology were written by the famous Sufi philosopher AL GAZALLI, who lived in Damascus, Syria around 1100 AD. His famous work called "Reconstruction of Religious Sciences," and "Alchemy of Happiness"' are classic examples. Another Sufi master IBN ARABI, born in Spain around 1160 AD, is perhaps the most profound Sufi author of his time. Two of his famous works are called "Bezels of Wisdom," and"Meccan Revelations." They deal with theories on pantheism and monotheism, such as the theory that asserts that "God is Nature, and Nature God." The other theory differentiates God from Nature, by asserting that "God is above Nature, which He created." Yet other theories deal with the "Unity of Being," and the "wisdom of prophecy," and so on. Studies based on such works are still subjects for Sufi contemplation and meditation.

Sufi poetry is recited by Sufis to enhance mystical awareness. Such poetry written in the "classical era" were by Arabic poet IBN-AL-FARID, and persian poets such as HAFIZ, SA'DI, JAMI and RUMI. RUMI, perhaps is the best known in the West for his monumental poetic works called the "Masnavi" and "Divan-i-shams." Poetic imagery both symbolic and mystical, depicts the central themes with which all Sufis are familiar with, are the "pangs of separation of the lover from the beloved," the "individual soul's" desire for mystical union with the "Universal soul," These are some of the important themes. Classical and modern Sufi poetry can be found from North Africa and Middle East, to India and Indonesia.

Sufi Music and Dance

The practice of music and dance in Sufism, is rather contentious. It is by no means universally accepted by all Sufis as some Sufi orders frown upon it. Others [may] rejoice in the recitation of mystical poetry, accompanied by musical instruments and performed as part of their prayers and devotions. Some Sufis consider such music conducive to "mystical ecstasy." These Sufis maintain that music can arouse passion - either sensual or spiritual. It is spiritual passion (longing for God) which is the Sufi's goal. Hence musical concerts are a regular feature of some Sufi orders.

The Sufi dance that is much talked about in the West, belongs to one Sufi order, founded by a Sufi master JALALUDDIN RUMI who lived around 1100 AD. This dance is known in the West as the dance of the "whirling dervishes." Actually, the dance is performed by the Sufis from that order under strict and controlled conditions, led by a Sufi master. The "steps" and "motions" symbolically depict the "cosmos in motion."

Contemporary Sufism

There are two aspects of Sufism, one is called "practical Sufism" and the other [is] "philosophical Sufism." One deals with the actual practice, while the other deals with the 'way' and how it is practiced. By way of analogy, it has been said that the "philosopher" looks at "water," and describes its properties, whereas the "Sufi," on the other hand, drinks it to quench his thirst.

Sufism was brought to the West within the last two hundred years by several western scholars, who were generally Christian missionaries. This gave a rather biased view of Sufism, which is now being corrected. Contemporary western scholars, now study Sufism within the framework of Islamic theology and tradition and are therefore able to present it as "the mystical dimension of Islam." Some of the contemporary authors and scholars are FRITHJOF SCHUON, TITUS BURCKHARDT, MARTIN LINGS, S.H. NASR, and ANNEMARIE SCHIMMEL.

As previously mentioned, a "schism" exists today within the Islamic world. A certain section of Muslims believe that Sufi practices are too radical,[and are] a departure from the fundamental teachings and practices of Islam. This is debatable and I do not propose to go into it here.

There are also two schools of thought within the Sufi community. One believes that Sufism is firmly entrenched in Islamic thought and tradition, and cannot be uprooted from Islam. The other school believes that the Sufi message is a "universal message," and therefore transcend any one religion. However, an overwhelming majority of practising Sufis belong to the first group. They maintain that the so-called "Sufism" of the second group is a mere misnomer and that it should really be designated as "mysticism" mainly because the word 'Sufi' has an essential Islamic connotation. It is obviously for this reason that genuine Sufism is correctly referred to as Islamic mysticism. In other words, one must distinguish between genuine-Sufis and pseudo-Sufis who appear to have mushroomed in the very fertile land of California and other places such as Europe and even Asia.

Conclusion

I should like to conclude by summarising a Sufi as one who is a mystic, empowered by the Qur'an and the Prophet, guided by the Sufi master and Saints and belongs to one of the many Sufi orders. In addition to ritual prayer and fasting, he practices various techniques of meditation. He recites poetry and delights in music all towards one goal, namely union with God, the Divine Beloved.

Finally it is said that Sufism in the olden days was a "reality without a name," today it is a "name without reality."

source: http://muslim-canada.org/sufi/introductionsufism.htm
another link: http://www.themystica.com/mystica/articles/s/sufism.html

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We need the Spirituality to resist Imperialism

Interview of Jaihoon, by Husain Kodinhi. Published in Pravasi Doothan, Dec 2006

YOUR ENGLISH POEMS ARE BEING TRANSLATED TO MALAYALAM FOR THE FIRST TIME. WHAT IS YOUR REACTION TO THIS?

It was my long-cherished wish to have my English poems translated. Since I began writing, my family and Malayalee readers had constantly demanded the same. Though a Malayalee, it was my handicap of the language which delayed such an attempt. This was beautifully accomplished by my friend Alavi Al Hudawi, who is currently a lecturer at the Darul Huda Islamic Academy. Dedicated to the late Islamic scholar, Syed Abul Hasan Ali Nadwi, this work was published by Islamic Sahitya Academy.

Selected poems from earlier published ?Egoptics? and ?Henna for the Heart? were included in this collection. Affinity with the Spiritual Friend, Love, protest against the System, eulogy of the Holy Prophet are the topics discussed. These poems are different from the traditional themes and strive to instill love and hope in the hearts of the readers.

WHY WERE THE POEMS SELECTED FOR MALAYALAM TRANSLATION INSTEAD OF THE NOVEL WHICH WAS WRITTEN IN THE KERALA CONTEXT?

The contribution of Malayalam poetry for Islamic Sufism is very scarce. The reason maybe cultural as well as religious. Metaphors and symbols evolved in one social and religious order is hard to translate into another unless such similar environment is created. But the Malabar environment was much more than conductive for the birth of such literary works. Besides, the Sufi masters present in cities like Ponnani, Mampuram and Kondotty could have produced a golden era of Mystic Malayalam literature.

What developed instead of Malayalam poetry were the verses in the melodious Arabi-Malayalam. Such literary genius filled with historic anecdotes and spirituality was unique in the entire Muslim world. After the death of it as a living language, such writings became part of history. Considering the above scenario, the relevance for mystic works bearing a spiritual touch would not be out of place. Besides, the onslaught of Consumerism is gaining an upper hand over the efforts of preachers of formal religion. I believe this collection of poems can be a wake-up call in the context of the increasing influence of consumerism in the community.

The lack of spiritual progress brews impatience and intolerance in the hearts of the youth. The spiritual vacuum is a major reason for the increasing suicide and consumerism in the Keralite society. Religious zeal minus spirituality breeds terrorism.

I believe that the goal of my poems is a spiritual catwalk for cleaning our heart of all the filth of hatred towards our fellow humans.

YOU LIVE AN EXPATRIATE LIFE IN SHARJAH. WRITE IN ENGLISH. MALAYALAM IS YOUR MOTHER TONGUE. HOW DO YOU HANDLE THESE CONFLICTING ASPECTS?

Born in Edappal, Malappuram district of Kerala, my primary education was in Malayalam. After family migrated to Sharjah, education transformed into English. The writing medium automatically became English. But my thoughts were set afire by the ideas of the East; expressed in the language of the West. The metaphors and symbols in my poems were of Eastern mystic literature. I cannot think of a poem parting from such symbolisms. The expatriate life in Sharjah has enabled me to closely interact with other cultures and thereby broaden my thinking. I could have access to a wide range of writers and works.

YOU ARE AMONG THE FEW WRITERS WHO HAVE CHOSEN INTERNET AS THEIR WRITING CANVAS. HOW DO YOU EVALUATE THIS TOOL AS A MEDIUM FOR LITERARY EXPRESSION?

All my writings saw light on the internet for the first time. Jaihoon.com is my portal where I showcase my writings. Though not an IT professional, I am able to interact and get simultaneous response from readers from all over the world by utilizing the limitless potentialities of the Web. It is through this medium that I was able to gain readership across North Americas, Europe and Africa. My second book, Henna for the Heart, was published from the U.S. Recently I have begun a blog as well in the cyberspace.

Internet has paved way for the democratization of art and knowledge. It crosses the man-made boundaries and challenges the credibility of mainstream media as well as the lordship of intellectual mafia.

Strong influences of Sufi thoughts are apparent in all your writings. How did Sufism become an inspiration for you?

The influence of Sufism is not deliberate at many times. Even while as a young student, I have tried to closely understand the poetry of Allama Iqbal. As a youth, I began to read Jalaludhin Rumi. It was their Sufi thoughts that saved my identity from the bestial aspects of Western culture. Imam Sirhindi?s works convinced me the limitations of human intellect. Teachings of Shah Waliyullah and Syed Abul Hasan Nadwi were real inspirations. How could I liberate myself from the influence of these great teachers?

MANY OF YOUR POEMS CONTAIN A CALL FOR RESISTANCE AGAINST CULTURAL INVASION AND IMPERIALISM. WHAT MESSAGE ARE YOU TRYING TO DELIVER?

Imperialism and consumerism are enemies of humanity. It is the duty of a writer to protest against them. It is in the interest of humanity to voice support for those who are hunted unjustly. Humanity has become cheap in the eyes of those who see everything in a material way. Woman has become the best commodity of sale. I wish to share the message of Divine Love in place of the love expressed for purely selfish ends. Love is no love at all, if for God is not a role.

WHAT IS YOUR PERSPECTIVE ON THE KERALA MUSLIMS?
The community, despite closely associated with Islamic history and knowledge, is yet to wake up from slumber. The clergy is still hesitant to debate contemporary problems and resolve them as per the demand of modern man. Although progress has been made on many fronts, the intellectual contribution of the leadership is scarce. While religious movements are active, it doesn?t broaden their horizon.

Although celebrations are in full swing on bygone saints like Abdul Qadir Jilani, there were no noticeable protests when the Imperialist forces were destroying the hometowns of such noble sages. The problem is there is no universal perspective about the Muslim world.

source: http://www.jaihoon.com/we-need-the-spirituality-to-resist-imperialism.htm

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Religion and Philosophy according to Iqbal

For Iqbal, religion is not something that is isolated from philosophy. He advocates an integration of the two, sometimes suggesting that the science of psychology has not reached an advanced enough level to be able to incorporate spiritual experience as part of a scientific theory of knowledge. Iqbal thinks, given adequate methods, the ultimate reality is within human grasp.

Read Groundwork in Islamic Philosophy, by Macksood A. Aftab "ARGUMENTS AGAINST THE EXISTENCE OF GOD"

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Book Extract: What is Sufism? Martin Lings

Author: Martin Lings
First published in 1975 133 pp. 195x130

The great Andalusian Sufi, Muhyi’d-Din Ibn Arabi, used to pray a prayer which begins: ‘Enter me, O Lord, into the deep of the Ocean of Thine Infinite Oneness’, and in the treatises of the Sufis this ‘Ocean’ is mentioned again and again, likewise by way of symbolic reference to the End towards which their path is directed. Let us therefore begin by saying, on the basis of this symbol, in answer to the question ‘What is Sufism?’: From time to time a Revelation ‘flows’ like a great tidal wave from the Ocean of Infinitude to the shores of our finite world; and Sufism is the vocation and the discipline and the science of plunging into the ebb of one of these waves and being drawn back with it to its Eternal and Infinite Source.

‘From time to time’: this is a simplification which calls for a commentary; for since there is no common measure between the origin of such a wave and its destination, its temporality is bound to partake, mysteriously, of the Eternal, just as its finiteness is bound to partake of the Infinite. Being temporal, it must first reach this world at a certain moment in history; but that moment will in a sense escape from time. Better than a thousand months is how the Islamic Revelation describes the night of its own advent. There must also he an end which corresponds to the beginning; but that end will be too remote to be humanly foreseeable. Divine institutions are made for ever. Another imprint of the Eternal Present upon it will be that it is always flowing and always ebbing in the sense that it has, virtually, both a flow and an ebb for every individual that comes within its scope.

There is only one water, but no two Revelations are outwardly the same. Each wave has its own characteristics according to its destination, that is, the particular needs of time and place towards which and in response to which it has providentially been made to flow. These needs, which include all kinds of ethnic receptivities and aptitudes such as vary from people to people, may be likened to the cavities and hollows which lie in the path of the wave. The vast majority of believers are exclusively concerned with the water which the wave deposits in these receptacles and which constitutes the formal aspect of the religion.

Mystics on the other hand—and Sufism is a kind of mysticism—are by definition concerned above all with ‘the mysteries of the Kingdom of Heaven’; and it would therefore be true to say, in pursuance of our image, that the mystic is one who is incomparably more preoccupied by the ebbing wave than by the water which it has left behind. He has none the less need of this residue like the rest of his community—need, that is, of the outward forms of his religion which concern the human individual as such. For if it be asked what is it in the mystic that can ebb with the ebbing wave, part of the answer will be: not his body and not his soul. The body cannot ebb until the Resurrection, which is the first stage of the reabsorption of the body—and with it the whole material state—into the higher states of being. As to the soul, it has to wait until the death of the body. Until then, though immortal, it is imprisoned in the world of mortality. At the death of Ghazali, the great eleventh-century Sufi, a poem which he had written in his last illness was found beneath his head. In it are the lines:

A bird I am: this body was my cage
But I have flown leaving it as a token.

Other great Sufis also have said what amounts to the same: but they have also made it clear in their writing or speaking or living-and this is, for us, the measure of their greatness that something in them had already ebbed before death despite the ‘cage’, something incomparably more important than anything that has to wait for death to set it free.

What is drawn back by spiritual realisation towards the Source might be called the centre of consciousness. The Ocean is within as well as without; and the path of the mystics is a gradual awakening as it were ‘backwards’ in the direction of the root of one’s being, a remembrance of the Supreme Self which infinitely transcends the human ego and which is none other than the Deep towards which the wave ebbs.

To use a very different image which will help to complete the first, let us liken this world to a garden—or more precisely, to a nursery garden, for there is nothing in it that has not been planted there with a view to its being eventually transplanted elsewhere. The central part of the garden is allotted to trees of a particularly noble kind, though relatively small and growing in earthenware pots; but as we look at them, all our attention is caught by one that is incomparably finer than any of the others, which it far excels in luxuriance and vigour of growth. The cause is not naked to the eye, but we know at once what has happened, without the need for any investigation: the tree has somehow been able to strike root deep into the earth through the base of its receptacle.

The trees are souls, and that tree of trees is one who, as the Hindus say, has been ‘liberated in life’, one who has realised what the Sufis term ‘the Supreme Station;’ and Sufism is a way and a means of striking a root through the ‘narrow gate’ in the depth of the soul out into the domain of the pure and unimprisonable Spirit which itself opens out on to the Divinity. The full-grown Sufi is thus conscious of being, like other men, a prisoner in the world of forms, but unlike them he is also conscious of being free, with a freedom which incomparably outweighs his imprisonment. He may therefore be said to have two centres of consciousness, one human and one Divine, and he may speak now from one and now from the other, which accounts for certain apparent contradictions.

To follow the path of the mystics is to acquire as it were an extra dimension, for this path is nothing other than the dimension of depth. Consequently, as will be seen in more detail later, even those rites which the mystic shares with the rest of his community, and which he too needs for the balance of his soul, are not performed by him exoterically as others perform them, but from the same profound esoteric point of view which characterises all his rites and which he is methodically forbidden to forsake. In other words he must not lose sight of the truth that the water which is left behind by the wave is the same water as that which ebbs. Analogously, he must not forget that his soul, like the water that is ‘imprisoned’ in forms, is not essentially different from the transcendent Spirit, of which it is a prolongation, like a hand that is held out and inserted into a receptacle and then, eventually, withdrawn.

If the reason for the title of this chapter is not yet apparent, this is partly because the word ‘original’ has become encrusted with meanings which do not touch the essence of originality but which are limited to one of its consequences, namely difference, the quality of being unusual or extraordinary. ‘Original’ is even used as a synonym of ‘abnormal’ which is a monstrous perversion, since true originality is always a norm. Nor can it be achieved by the will of man, whereas the grotesque is doubly easy to achieve, precisely because it is no more than a chaos of borrowings.

The original is that which springs directly from the origin or source, like pure uncontaminated water which has not undergone any ‘side’ influences. Originality is thus related to inspiration, and above all to revelation, for the origins are transcendent, being beyond this world, in the domain of the Spirit. Ultimately the origin is no less than the Absolute, the Infinite and the Eternal-whence the Divine Name ‘The Originator’, in Arabic al-Badi’, which can also be translated ‘the Marvellous’. It is from this Ocean of Infinite Possibility that the great tidal waves of Revelation flow, each ‘marvellously’ different from the others because each bears the imprint of the One-and-Only from which it springs, this imprint being the quality of uniqueness, and each profoundly the same because the essential content of its message is the One-and-Only Truth.

In the light of the image of the wave we see that originality is a guarantee of both authenticity and effectuality. Authenticity, of which orthodoxy is as it were the earthly face, is constituted by the flow of the wave, that is, the direct provenance of the Revelation from its Divine Origin; and in every flow there is the promise of an ebb, wherein lies effectuality, the Grace of the Truth’s irresistible power of attraction. Sufism is nothing other than Islamic mysticism, which means that it is the central and most powerful current of that tidal wave which constitutes the Revelation of Islam; and it will be clear from what has just been said that to affirm this is in no sense a depreciation, as some appear to think. It is on the contrary an affirmation that Sufism is both authentic and effectual.

As to the thousands of men and women in the modem Western world who, while claiming to be ‘Sufis’, maintain that Sufism is independent of any particular religion and that it has always existed, they unwittingly reduce it—if we may use the same elemental image—to a network of artificial inland waterways. They fail to notice that by robbing it of its particularity and therefore of its originality, they also deprive it of all impetus. Needless to say, the waterways exist. For example, ever since Islam established itself in the subcontinent of India, there have been intellectual exchanges between Sufis and Brahmins; and Sufism eventually came to adopt certain terms and notions from Neoplatonism. But the foundations of Sufism were laid and its subsequent course irrevocably fixed long before it would have been possible for extraneous and parallel mystical influences to have introduced non-Islamic elements, and when such influences were finally felt, they touched only the surface.

In other words, by being totally dependent upon one particular Revelation, Sufism is totally independent of everything else. But while being self-sufficient it can, if time and place concur, pluck flowers from gardens other than its own. The Prophet of Islam said: ‘Seek knowledge even if it be in China’.

read more this book at http://www.fonsvitae.com/whatsufism.html

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