Ep 6 — Productive Faith Accompanied by Practical Commitments

Session 4: Productive Faith Accompanied by Practical Commitments. delivered Sunday, 31 Shahrivar 1353 / 5 Ramadan al-Mubarak 1394 Surat al-Hajj (22:77-78). …And strive for God with the striving due to Him. He has chosen you and has not laid upon you in religion any hardship — the faith of your father Abraham. It is He who named you Muslims before and in this [Revelation], that the Messenger may be a witness over you and that you may be witnesses over mankind. So establish prayer and give zakat and hold fast to God. He is your Protector — and excellent is the Protector, and excellent is the Helper. The matter is simply this: faith, according to the undeniable culture of the Qur'an, is not merely an affair of the heart. It is true that faith means belief, and belief is connected to the heart; but the Qur'an does not recognize as valid every belief, every faith and acceptance and assent. Abstract faith, a faith confined to a dry and empty heart — a faith whose radiance is not visible in the limbs and organs of the believer — such faith, in the view of Islam, is of no worth. The very first to have faith in God was Satan. For years before the boastful servants of the Lord and the proud, pampered children of Adam came to this dusty earth, Iblis used to worship God Almighty, and his heart was a center of the knowledge of God. But at that decisive juncture — at the very point where faith is supposed to come into play, that is, at the moment of choice, at the moment of determining one's final path — this faith was of no use to Iblis; this faith remained right there in the heart. I say that a faith which only remains in the heart will rot and dry up. You may say, "No, it endures." Well, let us grant the objection its full strength: let us say faith remains in the depths of the heart. Yet a faith that stays in the heart and does not reach the hands and feet and eyes and ears and brain, the limbs and organs and life and faculties and energies of a person — that faith, from the standpoint of Qur'anic culture, is of no worth. We have summarized this point in a single heading, and it is the very heading written at the top of this sheet which is in your hands: productive faith. A faith that, like an overflowing spring, gives birth to action; a faith accompanied by commitment; a faith that places a burden upon the believer's shoulders; a faith that has action alongside it. I set out to count up in the Qur'an the verses that read inna'lladhina amanu wa 'amilu's-salihat — "those who believed and did righteous deeds." I found that with this very expression, faith joined with righteous action appears in dozens of instances. Faith without commitment — a faith unaccompanied by any sense of responsibility — is good neither for this world nor for the Hereafter. This is the logic of the Qur'an. (Tomorrow's recitation, too, is roughly on this same theme; we will recite some verses tomorrow as well and reflect upon them, God willing, with deliberation — for they too declare this very meaning explicitly, with utmost clarity, leaving no room for argument.) Those who supposed that faith is something belonging to the region of a person's heart — even if the person is not bound to the requisites and commitments of faith — and that he can still belong to the circle of believers; those who imagined that by being a believer alone, that is, by holding the belief alone, without action, without effort, without striving, God's promises concerning the believers would fall to one's share; those who thought Paradise is granted in exchange for an affair of the heart, and that, without action, government over the earth is granted in exchange for an affair of the heart and not for action; those who imagine, in short, that if we remove action, something of faith still remains — these people ought to reflect carefully upon these verses, and upon the other verses in the coming recitation, and upon the dozens of other instances throughout the entire Qur'an, so that they may see that the faith which has value in the view of Islam is the faith accompanied by action, by responsibility, by duty, by commitment. If you have felt no commitment, then doubt your own being a believer. A society that does not act upon the commitments of faith should not name itself a believing society. Consider those who have heard from the Qur'an wa la tahinu wa la tahzanu wa antum al-a'lawna in kuntum mu'minin — "Do not weaken, do not grieve; if you are believers you are the highest of all." They heard this astonishing summons from the Qur'an, and then they look at the realities, and they see that the believers in the Qur'an are not above everyone; rather, they are debtors to everyone. And so they are amazed: where, then, is this promise of the Qur'an? And if, at some time, they do not find any fulfilling of this promise, they sit waiting for the appearance of the Wali of the Age (may the blessings of God be upon him). To these people, too, it must be pointed out: yes, the divine promise is true — both at the time of the appearance of the Promised Mahdi (may the blessings of God be upon him) and wherever faith takes form. But it is the faith that the Qur'an regards as accompanied by action, the faith it does not consider separate from commitment. Faith is not merely an affair of the heart. If mere assent and acceptance of the truth of the word were enough for faith, then I say the first to have faith in the Prophet was Abu Lahab or al-Walid ibn al-Mughira al-Makhzumi. Those shrewd Arabs understood very well that the Messenger of God did not lie; they understood well that he spoke the truth. Do you want proof? The proof is that they would sit together with their drinking companions and decide to disgrace the Prophet. They would say, "Let us go and listen, let us see what he says, and find fault with him." Then they would go and sit; and the next night they would come back and say, "No, this is not the speech of a human being; this is the word of the God of mankind." So they accepted, they affirmed that he spoke from God. Yet you, after fourteen centuries from that time, do not regard him as a believer. I say: if he is not a believer — on the grounds that this faith of his, this acceptance of his, this assent of his, was not accompanied by the appropriate commitments — then are we believers? — while our own assent, too, is not accompanied by the appropriate commitments. What do you say? If mere recognition and heart-felt faith and belief were enough, then 'Amr ibn al-'As would have to be the first Shi'a in the world. 'Amr ibn al-'As, who either saw the affair of Ghadir Khumm with his own eyes or heard of it from those who saw it with their own eyes — whereas you and I, after thirteen-odd centuries, merely read of this affair in books. 'Amr ibn al-'As, who composes poetry about Imam 'Ali (peace be upon him); 'Amr ibn al-'As, who at the moment of death, in those most critical hours and moments that present themselves to a human mind, expresses remorse, expresses regret, saying, "I sold my religion for Mu'awiya's world; I fought against 'Ali, whom I knew to be the truth." So 'Amr ibn al-'As, it seems to me, grasped and affirmed the immediate succession (wilayat-i bila-fasl) of the Commander of the Faithful more deeply and more knowledgeably than a Shi'a of the fourteenth century after the Hijra. But is he a Shi'a? You say no. Why is he not a Shi'a? Because belief in the Imamate of the Commander of the Faithful brings certain commitments. Its very first commitment is not to pledge allegiance to Mu'awiya ibn Abi Sufyan. 'Amr ibn al-'As, who becomes complicit with Mu'awiya and fights against this very 'Ali — that is, he does not remain bound to the commitments of Shi'ism, to the responsibilities and duties that this belief directs upon a person — is not a Shi'a. This statement is correct. And because it is correct, I turn the discourse back upon ourselves once again, and I say: by this very reasoning, can you and I believe and be certain that we are Shi'a? Are we acting upon the commitments of being a Shi'a? Are we bound by them? And the word of the Qur'an on this matter is clear, undoubting, and unambiguous. (This meaning is present both in today's recitation and in tomorrow's.) It explicitly denies faith to those who are utterly unbound by the commitments of their faith. Therefore, the faith that is valid in Islam — and these are among the doctrinal principles of Islam and of Shi'ism — is productive, commitment-creating faith. It is the faith that is accompanied by practical commitments; and if it is not so accompanied, then do not wait for its fruits either, do not wait for victory in this world, do not wait for security in this world. (This verse and dozens of other verses that bear witness and testify to the point have not come into this writing of ours, because there is no room and no occasion for them.) The Qur'an says: Those who believed and did not clothe their faith in wrongdoing — for them is security, and they are rightly guided. That faith which is accompanied by oppression does not procure security. That faith which has no commitment alongside it does not grant the believer victory; it does not guarantee his triumph; it does not bring him the help of God and the help of the very particles of nature and creation; it does not give him the happiness and salvation of this world — in short, in a word, it does not give him the paradise of this world and the next. The vain fancies that arise from love of ease whisper to us the very opposite of this. There is a trait in a human being that always seeks the easier course; there is a tendency toward seeking ease, toward taking the path of least resistance, in a person. If you give him the choice between two tasks — whichever is easier, whichever requires less effort and less expense — that is the one a person chooses. This is human nature; usually people are like this. This trait tells us: accept the easier path, the less costly path, the more effortless path. On the other hand, religious faith says: your Paradise is lost. So that the ease-seeking may remain in place and Paradise may not be lost, we are compelled to sit down and devise formulas — formulas that yield the result of sending the idle, lazy man to Paradise. We stand by our formulas, we cling to them stubbornly, and to the very end we never understand; only when we have failed to reach Paradise do we understand that the formulas were wrong. I say: let us now reconsider, let us see whether these formulas are really correct. The Qur'an is our definitive, flawless text, and there are hundreds of sound, well-attested narrations. The Imam (peace be upon him), in a narration with this purport — (I thought I would search beforehand and prepare several of his narrations to bring here and read, but the truth is I did not find the time; otherwise there are many narrations on this subject) — says that our intercession does not reach [a person], or [a person] does not attain to our intercession, except by means of striving and serious effort. Now, with laziness, with embracing the knee of grief, with eating the grief of the past and the grief of the future in a spineless, listless way — grieving is good, but a grieving that is not accompanied by spinelessness — we, in this negative, base, fruitless state, sit waiting in the hope of intercession. Yet the Imam himself (peace be upon him), according to this narration, says that our intercession reaches those who have serious effort and striving — precisely the opposite of what is in our minds. And narrations of this kind are beyond counting. Imam al-Sajjad (peace be upon him), in that middle of the night, is engaged in worship in the mosque, engaged in weeping and lamentation. That man who, according to the correct understanding of his life, is wholly an effort in the path of bringing right and truth to power — in the middle of the night, too, is wholly an effort in the path of servitude and humility before God. He sheds tears, he weeps, he supplicates — astonishing supplications, which there is no occasion now for me to relate — in an astonishing state. Then that simple-hearted, good-natured man says: "O son of the Prophet! You? You, with that father, that mother, that grandfather — all of whom are God's chosen servants — leave the weeping to us. You, who are the son of the Prophet, the son of 'Ali, the son of Husayn, the son of Fatima al-Zahra, why do you weep?" At that, Imam al-Sajjad (the blessings of God be upon him), while defending this thesis — the thesis of humility and reverence and weeping and worship and supplication before the Lord, for the polishing of the soul, for becoming ever more resolute, for relying ever more upon God, and not for benumbing oneself — while reinforcing this thesis, also draws this error out of the mind of this ordinary Shi'a. He says: "What are you saying? Da' 'an hadithi abi wa ummi wa jaddi — cast aside the talk of father and mother and grandfather, that you are the son of so-and-so — al-jannatu li'l-muti'in — Paradise belongs to the obedient." This is the Islamic thesis and the Shi'i thesis in the matter of faith and action. Why do I emphasize this matter? Because for long years — indeed for many centuries — work has been done upon the minds of Muslims to convince them that action is not necessary for being a Muslim, to make them understand that for being a believer a pure heart alone is necessary, not a pure deed. Aiding these treacherous, hireling hands have been our own love of ease, our own ease-seeking, our own pretensions — for we would like God's Paradise to be handed to us in exchange for some small task. And this mistaken understanding has been aided too by the ignorance of those with no ulterior motive; they had no motive other than that they were ignorant. From after the Prophet, after a short period of time, this idea arose and was promoted. Mu'awiya ibn Abi Sufyan is very interesting. Do you know of anyone more irreligious than Mu'awiya? Do you know of anyone worse than Mu'awiya? Whom else, in that history and at the dawn of Islamic history, could one find worse than these people? One day they saw that Mu'awiya was making a bequest to his intimates: "Yes — when I am dead, there are one or two small bundles; bring them from such-and-such a place and place them in my shroud." They said, "What are these?" He said, "One of them is a piece of the Prophet's garment. One day the Prophet of God was trimming his hair and face, or paring his nails, and I gathered up a few of those particles of hair and the discarded nail-clippings of the Prophet; place these in my shroud, that God may forgive me." How pure of soul! Mu'awiya too sets out and works in the hope of the Prophet's intercession — but on what path? On the path of acquiring a few strands of the hair of the Prophet's mustache and face and head. Well, bravo! As far as it is easy, as far as it costs nothing, he lends an ear to the Qur'an too, he shows respect to the Qur'an too — but only as far as it is profitable to himself. (If I were to enter into this matter now, there are whole discussions to be had. I think I may speak somewhat on this subject tomorrow.) In any case, for years — and for long years — they have been working upon minds, so as to say: Islam minus action, faith without action; in the heart, love and faith and belief — and not in action, in movement and effort and effect. For years they have wanted to make us believe this. And the Qur'an, all the while, raises its call, alive and fresh: and those are not the believers. Those who do not have these works (whose recitation we shall see either today or tomorrow) are not believers; they have no faith. Those are believers, those are with you, those are encompassed by the grace of God and by brotherhood and Muslim fellowship, who move in the path of God, in accordance with faith, in a committed manner — who strive, who work, who labor. This is the logic of the Qur'an. O you who have believed — bow, prostrate, humble yourselves before God; render servitude and worship to your Lord; do good; that perhaps you may succeed, may be saved. If you do these works, there is felicity and salvation and success and triumph. But if it were only ya ayyuha'lladhina amanu — "O you who have believed" — and there were no irka'u wa'sjudu wa'budu rabbakum waf'alu'l-khayr — bow, prostrate, worship your Lord, and do good — would there be felicity and salvation? The answer is up to you. And strive for God with the striving due to Him. Strive in the path of God in the manner that striving deserves. For a single day's income, from sunrise to sunrise, what do you do, how much do you toil? How much do you strive? In that same proportion, see how much you must strive for God. Everything is in the main text, while the work of God is in the margin. The general state of our lives, the general layout of our lives, is like this: all the works are in the main text — teaching, learning, earning money, toiling, exercising, and so on — all of it is the main text of life; and in those margins, that work of God either is there or is not. But if you look correctly, that effort which must be made for God and in the path of God — its volume, its quality, its depth, its tirelessness and steadfastness — ought to be, in proportion to the greatness and majesty of God Himself, greater than all other efforts, more enduring, more tireless, more indefatigable. …strive for God with the striving due to Him. He has chosen you. O community of Islam! What does "He has chosen you" mean? Does it mean He has set you aside as pampered, precious pearls, and said: these are a breed apart; they have sinned too, they have erred too, they have acted contrary to Our command too — yet Paradise is in their name? This is a claim that the Jews too made about themselves. They were mistaken; and any Muslim who thinks this way is mistaken too. Against the Jews — those who imagined that they were the beloved and the friends and the intimates, indeed the children of God — the Qur'an declares, in a tone of severe and stinging reproach, that all this love, this friendship, this guardianship, hinges on this: that you act according to God's command. "We chose you" — that is true; "but We had chosen the Children of Israel before too." God selected the Ummah of Islam; but before Islam He had selected the Children of Israel too. Both selections are of one kind: in the sense of selecting the most prepared individual for the greatest task. Among ten of you, you look and see that this one's face is more resolute, his body more ready, his complexion more vigorous, his fist stronger, his arms and chest broader and firmer; you say, "Sir, this heavy load — you must lift it; I chose you for this task." And this one steps forward. If he lifts it, if he is able to do this task — that is, if he wills it (the capacity was undoubtedly in him) — if he resolves and lifts this load, then he rises above the level of his peers and becomes a select, distinguished individual. And if he does not lift it? If he does not lift it, he becomes more downtrodden and more wretched than the others. They say to him, "Poor wretch! The others could not, and We did not ask them; but We asked you, and you did not do it." The selection of the Ummah of Islam is of this kind, like the selection of the Ummah of the Children of Israel. The Children of Israel in their time, and the Muslims in their time, were the worthiest of communities and individuals to bear the trust of Islam, the leadership and guidance of mankind; that is why this trust was given to them. Did they bear it or not? If they bore it — if they delivered this trust to its destination — then of course they are the best, the most select, and the worthiest of Muslims; but if not, then what? If they did not bear it, they have the very condition that the Jews acquired as a result of not bearing the trust: And humiliation and wretchedness were stamped upon them, and they incurred the wrath of God. This is for their world; ma'wahum jahannam — "their abode is Hell" — and that is for their Hereafter. He has chosen you. He has chosen you, He has selected you for the bearing of this load. wa ma ja'ala 'alaykum fi'd-dini min haraj — "and He has not laid upon you in religion any hardship": in religion He has placed upon you no hardship, no pressure, no difficulty; there is no constraint. This load is not so very heavy; bearing it is not so much a torment and torture; it is bearable. wa ma ja'ala 'alaykum fi'd-dini min haraj — He has laid upon you in the matter of religion no constraint, no difficulty, no pressure. millata abikum Ibrahim — this is the very creed of your father Abraham. huwa sammakumu'l-muslimina min qablu wa fi hadha — He has named you, in the past and in this present time, Muslims and submitters, surrendered to God — wa min dhurriyyatina ummatan muslimatan lak (this is in the prayer of Abraham in Surat al-Baqarah, a reference to that) — huwa sammakumu'l-muslimina min qablu wa fi hadha: We gave you this load, We carried out this selection regarding you. For what? So that what may come about? So that you may do what and reach where? …that the Messenger may be a witness over you and that you may be witnesses over mankind. Your direct overseer is the Prophet, and you are responsible for all humanity — so that the Prophet may be a witness and guardian and watchman over you, and you may be witnesses and guardians and watchmen over humanity. You are the rulers of mankind, you are the administrators of humanity, you are the watchmen of this caravan. O leaders of the caravan, do not remain asleep! li-yakuna'r-rasulu shahidan 'alaykum — that the Prophet may be a witness and guardian and watchman over you; wa takunu shuhada'a 'ala'n-nas — and that you may be over the people and over humanity and over the nations and the masses, watchmen and guardians and overseers. Now that it is so, now that your responsibility is heavy, now that you are being dispatched on a difficult mission on behalf of the Lord — fa-aqimu's-salat — then establish prayer. Once again duty, once again commitment — dry and empty faith?! fa-aqimu's-salat — establish the prayer; wa atu'z-zakat — and give the zakat. (aqimu's-salat I explained on one of the past days.) and hold fast to God. And cling to God and to the divine creed; take refuge in God, rely upon God; fear no one else, no other power. At the time when the ways are closed before you, do not despair of God's grace and aid and help. huwa mawlakum — God is your master, your guardian, your protector, and the one on your front line. (The meaning of mawla — guardianship (wilayat) and expressions of this sort — I must, God willing, set forth in a detailed and independent discussion. Allahu waliyyu'lladhina amanu — what does it mean? huwa mawlakum — what does it mean? 'Ali is the mawla of the believers — what does it mean? The believers must hold the wilayat of 'Ali — what does it mean? This wilayat, this word, is an astonishingly meaning-laden, pith-filled word. One day, God willing, I will explain it using Qur'anic expressions.) fa-ni'ma'l-mawla wa ni'ma'n-nasir — what an excellent master, what an excellent helper is the Lord. We have several more verses, from the end of Surat al-Anfal. (Here too, again, there is another section, a small explanation I wrote at the head of it, before these verses of al-Anfal: social commitments.) The commitments of faith of the kind of zakat, of the kind of prayer, of the kind of holding fast to God — that is one kind, which was repeated in those verses, the verses at the end of Surat al-Hajj. Now another kind of the commitments of faith, from another standpoint, from another angle — another kind of commitment — is raised in these verses. Indeed those who believed — and emigrated. What does it mean to emigrate? Does it mean, firstly, that they went from Mashhad to Tehran, for example, and stayed? That they migrated from one city to another and that was all? No. Emigration means, all at once, washing one's hands of everything for the sake of a goal — for the sake of joining the Islamic society, for the sake of accepting commitment within the organized structure of the Islamic community. When you rose up and came out of Mecca, your shop full of goods and merchandise no longer existed for you there — that shop with its established goodwill, as today's people would call it, with a loyal clientele and a reputation that earned you honor. To the benefit of the bloodthirsty, marauding plunderers of Mecca, your shop with its two or three bays was confiscated and your property was looted. If you had come from Mecca alone, and your wife had not become a Muslim, then you had to write off all the memories of your past married life to the wind — it was over, you had to tear your heart away. If you came from Mecca to Medina, and your father or your son had stayed behind there, the dearest of your dear ones had turned into your blood-enemy. Emigration means this. Those who emigrated accepted into their souls all these deprivations and failures. From another angle, emigration means carrying a single brick for the building of the mighty palace of the Islamic society. Consider now: here a building is to be constructed. Suppose that a hundred pieces of timber, or thousands of pieces of brick, are to be placed here one upon another. If every child carries even one and brings it here, then this is built. If every person lays a single stone, a magnificent palace comes into being. The Islamic society that had come into being in Medina was in need of believing, active, hardworking, capable, seasoned, Islam-understanding elements, lovers of and believers in this path, with hearts brimming with faith. The one who emigrated from Mecca passed up familiarity and affection and memory and ease and pleasure and merriment, and came to Medina. From Mecca to Medina, this person had in truth taken a great step in the building of such a society, according to his own share, to his own measure; therefore he had worth, he was decisive. So see what these verses say. Indeed those who believed — and also emigrated — and strove with their wealth and their lives in the path of God — and those who gave shelter, to these homeless, helpless ones uprooted from their houses — and aided them — all of these: these are some of them the allies of others. These are bound together and joined together and on one front with each other. These are all one element; these are the bricks and mortar of one wall and one roof. Mathalu'l-mu'mini ka-mathali'l-bunyani yashuddu ba'duhu ba'da — "The likeness of the believer is the likeness of a building: one part of it reinforces another." Have you seen how these bricks are interlocked, in these vaulted ceilings? Each brick is a believer; each believer is a brick, interlocked, and holds in place dozens of other bricks. In a vaulted ceiling, pull out a single brick with effort, and ten bricks around it fall — this one had held those ten in place, just as those ten in turn, each for its part, had held this one in place. ba'duhum awliya'u ba'd — some of them are the allies of others. and those who believed — pay attention here — but those who believed, who have the heart-faith too, but wa lam yuhajiru — they did not tear themselves away from the comfortable tree-shaded private home and emigrate — (well, even if there was no tree-shaded home there, the houses of that place) — wa lam yuhajiru — they did not emigrate; they believed, but did not act upon this commitment of faith. How are these people? Of them He says: ma lakum min walayatihim min shay'in hatta yuhajiru — you have nothing to do with their guardianship until they emigrate. These are not joined to you, they are not part of you; between you and them there is no guardianship and no joining-together. Until when? hatta yuhajiru — until they act upon the commitment of faith. Dry and empty faith yields no effect even in this world, brother; even in the Islamic society it does not become a source of effect; and in the Hereafter, that goes without saying. Ma lakum min walayatihim min shay'in hatta yuhajiru. (Well, did I write down the continuation of this verse over there? I did not write it; so this much is enough. As it happens, I myself have grown tired now. Now pay attention. Today our reciter is the esteemed Mr. Ruhani, who is coming, who is doing us the honor of coming here to read these verses. First the verses at the end of Surat al-Hajj — or he may add two or three verses to the verses of Surat al-Hajj — or, by my preference (which now seems to me better this way): first the verses of Surat al-Hajj, those same two or three verses we translated; first he recites those, and you listen well. Once again, when you have heard these verses in that beautiful melody, they will settle more firmly in your mind and in your soul. First he reads the verses at the end of Surat al-Hajj, then he returns to this very verse that I just read, [continuing] to the end of the surah — that is, up to the beginning of bara'atun mina'llah, Surat al-Tawba — these very verses he reads too. Because today, just now, between the two prayers, when I was looking at the Qur'an, I saw that after this verse, two or three verses on,) there is again a sentence there that serves our purpose much better. That sentence is very apt for the testimony of our point; now I will read that very sentence for you. One, two, three verses later He says: And those who believed and emigrated and strove in the path of God — (which I did not write down on this sheet) — and those who gave shelter and aided — these are the true believers. The true believer is these; who are those other than these? The false believer. This is the import of the verse. (Therefore, since these verses are apt, they will recite these very verses later.)