Shepherding Our Flock
A major preoccupation of observant Muslims today is figuring out how to formulate a religious program that can somehow rekindle religious commitment in the hearts of the otherwise uncommitted. It is no secret that plenty of born Muslims simply do not feel the life of Islam in their day-to-day lives, and many report their disaffection with faith as having been contributed to by the actions and demeanor of the faithful. Some grievances are undoubtedly substantial: physical abuse, criminal activity, and hypocrisy of the obscene variety are not rare (and, understandably, not easily overcome).
The majority of grievances, however, do not (thankfully) rise to that level. The grievances of the majority range from moderate indiscretions to seemingly trivial irritations. These objections may include partisan community politics, cronyism, and the advancing of monied interests in the name of “fi sabil li’llah,” just as they can (and often do) include the presence of obdurate “uncles” and “aunties,” an intolerably ‘accented’ imam, or the recurring presence of an unentertaining (and sometimes simply bad) khatib at the Friday minbar. All of these objections are taken as independently legitimate and are largely undifferentiated in conversations surrounding community alienation and public outreach. And just like everything else, anyone merely asserting a minor-to-moderate grievance is taken as wholly aggrieved and entitled to the treatment of a victim who has suffered unspeakable torment. The customer is always right, and many communities are now responding with instant submission to even minor complaints, lest they find themselves subject to public ridicule and community shaming in the name of accountability. The slightest question to better understand such a situation — even clarification, perhaps — is held by many as an act of hostility and yet another example of ‘what’s wrong with our community.’
In catering to this environment, an emerging consensus among Muslims in America is being built in the name of “compassion.” The compassionate program is a form of outreach that emphasizes notions of empathy, a “come as you are without judgment” attitude, and religious messaging that sets aside the sometimes-difficult discussions of theology, eschatology, scripture, and anything construed as demanding in favor of self-help, inspirational reminders, and social justice. This self-styled dawah of compassion is especially popular among social media millennials eager to discover alternatives to existing institutions and for whom demands can be a quick turn-off. Consequently, it is expanding its reach and being adopted, to various degrees, in the confines Muslims occupy in the West, both large and small.
To be sure, the concept of compassion is firmly established in the tradition of Islam. Our Prophet (pbuh) has been described by Allah as a mercy to mankind, and Allah Himself informs us in a sacred tradition (hadith qudsi) that His own mercy has overcome His wrath. Elsewhere, the Prophet (pbuh) tells us that all the mercy we witness and experience on this earth — from the compassion we show to one another to the gentleness observed among animals to their offspring — is but a single part of Allah’s mercy, the remaining ninety-nine parts of which have been vouchsafed for His slaves on the Day of Resurrection. “Your God is the one God: there is no god except Him, the Lord of Mercy, the Giver of Mercy.” (al-Baqarah:163) It is for this reason, among others, that Dr. Umar Faruq Abdullah referred to mercy as the “Stamp of Creation.” (A wonderful treatment of mercy in the Quran can be found in Imam Majduddin Feyruzabadi’s Lata’if al-kitab al-‘aziz. See 3/58 in the work for the relevant section)
It can and must be said therefore that Islam cannot operate devoid of mercy, and anyone alleging to provide something called Islam absent mercy has profoundly misunderstood it. Of this, there can be no serious dispute. Having said that, it seems to me that much of the trouble with these discussions lies in what it means to be merciful to those around us. If indeed our Prophet (pbuh) stands as the paradigmatic model of mercy, then we come to realize immediately that true mercy requires a sensitivity not merely for the sensibilities of those to whom we speak, but far more importantly, a deep concern for the One in Whose name we live, act, and preach. Just as Islam is not Islam without mercy, Islam is most certainly not Islam without its essential message. Offering an Islam without an afterlife, judgment, demand, or concern for Allah’s rights is an Islam in name only. And although one may rightfully avoid foregrounding particularities that have contributed to theological confusion or spiritual conflict when acting in a pastoral capacity, one cannot establish an entire portfolio of religion that omits its obligations, prohibitions, and basic creed. To construe such a platform as merciful is to misapprehend the very meaning of mercy, at least as it is upheld in the religion of Allah.
The prophets of Allah were all subject to defamatory accusations, and their opponents expended considerable effort vilifying both them and the message of Islam. None of this was due to their lack of compassion. In fact, it occurred in spite of their merciful dispositions. Should Muslims today find themselves in a similarly precarious position for merely articulating what the Book of Allah and the Sunnah of His Prophet (pbuh) states, then a degree of mettle will have to be in order. “They fear not the reproach of detractors.” (al-Ma’idah:54) Better to shoulder whatever protest ensues from those inquiring than risk misrepresenting the religion of Allah.
It should be noted that this fresh attention to compassion is a decidedly cosmopolitan program. It offers to those saturated in a pool of materialistic, secularistic, and humanistic impulses a message tailored to their pre-existing intuitions. Islam wants you to be rich, successful, and objects to ‘blind following.’ You can — of your own devices — determine what is theologically right or wrong, and whatever tradition those old mullahs huff and haw about is ancient history to which we have no indebtedness.
Though this ‘protestant-lite’ Islam may prove moderately attractive in the short-term, over the long haul it will undoubtedly fail. Anecdotally, we have seen what reform traditions have produced in the West. By deteriorating the effective meaning of religion as morally authoritative and theologically meaningful, these denominations have often served as a bridge to apostasy. When religion becomes exclusively ceremonial, it becomes practically meaningless. If people of religion merely reinforce what the secular state and popular culture assert, they cease to provide a compelling reason for those seeking meaning to stay.
Theologically speaking, Allah has guaranteed the preservation of His religion. The night of this religion is like its day, none deviates except that they perish. To belong to it and state anything of meaning from its sources is a blessing so considerable that no other blessing in this world can measure up. Alhamdulillah for the blessing of Islam and for the One who guided us to it. We need to remember this and remind ourselves of it when placed in the difficult circumstance of speaking truth to those who may not immediately desire it.
None of this is to say that our dawah has to be uniform in all respects. The sahaba varied in personality, as did many scholars thereafter. Some will emphasize the carrot and others the stick. Many are still early in their spiritual journey, and people will discover aspects of the religion that they grant greater attention to than others (supererogatory charity, prayers, tilawa of the Quran, scholarship and study, etc.). This is natural and largely nonproblematic. This is also not a dismissal of otherwise legitimate complaints, even those seemingly trivial ones. No one is denying that recalcitrant imams exist, or that our community could benefit from better PR, or that people have had bad experiences in Muslim institutions, or that there are organizations out there rife with corruption, or that some people simply need a gentle hand and inviting smile to find the beauty of Islam, or that it is difficult being Muslim today, or that Trump is an awful President, or that anti-Muslim actors exist, or that “aunties” and “uncles” just need to chill out on occasion, or the many other realities raised to legitimize the platform espoused by the cadre of compassionate dawah-givers.
It is merely to say the following: just as we cannot and should not tolerate those who ignore the compassion and mercy of Islam, we must correct those who appropriate the language of compassion to dilute and distort the message of Islam. Remember: all are shepherds, and each will be asked of his flock.
Candlelight Vigils and Theological Concerns
The recent shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh has left many grief-stricken. A shooting that resulted in eleven worshippers dead and two injured is indeed a tragedy, and people of faith bear a greater responsibility than others to show solidarity and resist the spread of anti-religious animus. The Abrahamic faiths share a great deal, and our Prophet (pbuh) stood in a show of respect when the funeral procession of a Jewish person passed in front of him. To hold hands, express sympathy, show solidarity, and give condolences is entirely appropriate given the circumstances and in keeping with what our religion teaches us.
Substantial funds were raised by Muslims for the families of the fallen, and although there is something about the optics that I am not entirely enamored by, it is understandable and certainly a good show of neighborly support.
Having said that, there is something deeply troubling I am finding in the practice of candlelight vigils which are now becoming civic procedure in the aftermath of tragedies. People of various faiths (and no faiths) come together, hold candles, and offer prayers during moments of silence and pensive contemplation. It is a somewhat odd custom, and largely inconceivable for past societies where death was intrinsically bound up in theological considerations (this is at least my impression based on my studies). The prayer for the departed, the procession that followed, and the rules (both spoken and unspoken) governing how the fallen should have their life faithfully commemorated would have naturally been grounded in theological teachings.
Those who leave us today are still largely circumscribed within these teachings, and their deaths continue to be processed according to religious instruction. But those visible tragedies, the ones that cause us pause and shock, are now viewed as necessarily extra-theological. Which is to say they are simply too important to subject to the old rules.
The rhetorical trick in this new arrangement has been to assert vigils as sitting outside of any representative theology while doing the work of theology under a different guise. Carlton Hayes famously argued nationalism as the religion of the modern age in 1928, and plenty have argued that the secular state today subordinates traditional religion in favor of its own theology and rituals. Heck, even critics of identity politics today argue that a ‘culture of grievance’ has emerged in the social sciences that is religious in both design and function. This is all to say that religion has steady competition, and the contours of the modern world virtually beg for respectable people to think in humanistic terms when tragedy strikes because it is in those terms that their daily life has come to make sense.
In the context of vigils and public condolences, what we are increasingly witnessing is a byproduct of this environment. Of course, some may argue that vigils and public sympathy did not produce theistic indifference, and that ignoring them will not put an end to those setting aside theological differences in their lives or the conditions that have made their indifference come easy. Whether it is a cause or effect, many Muslims today find the protocols of prohibition and obligation when an unbeliever passes way as unnecessarily stringent, just as they are finding the rules of marrying, consuming meat, or basically anything with explicitly theological difference as confounding and unbecoming for a religion interested in the welfare of humanity.
So what we get is supplication being offered for the passing of a devoted atheist like Stephen Hawking, a man who wrote that there is “no possibility” of God. We get Muslims writing op-eds on the passing of John McCain stating: “May God forgive his shortcomings and have mercy on his soul.” And we have Muslims beseeching Allah’s forgiveness, mercy, and admittance to Paradise for many others who have died outside of Islam but were seen as culturally significant or victims of public tragedy.
Of course, none of this is permissible in Islam. According to my limited studies, the prohibition here is a matter of religious consensus (‘ijma). And regardless of how callous that may sound to Muslims conditioned to view theological difference as refracting primitive prejudices, the reality is that what we believe — all of us — matters. Shirk is not an inconsequential choice. Allah tells us that shirk is the greatest injustice, just as those who diverge from the path of the Prophet (pbuh) and reject him are astray. We have all been placed in this life temporarily, and the very purpose of our existence has been and remains submission to God and the fulfillment of a life that coincides with His demands.
There are some important caveats to mention in all of this. That our judgment and Shar’i obligations are matters of the dunya, and that we refrain from casting final judgment on any individual. That only Allah knows where individuals will ultimately find themselves, and that, accordingly, we don’t speak definitively of any individual as being in Paradise or Hell absent those we have been informed of in revelation (i.e., the prophets, Abu Lahab, Pharaoh, etc.). And that those mistaken theologically may be provided opportunities for redemption in the afterlife if they are adjudged as ahl al-fatra.
But none of this detracts from the basic facts of our obligations and prohibitions, as well as the indisputable Truth that is inherent in Islam alone — a Truth that is necessary for salvation in the hereafter. Of this, we must be resolute and uncompromising.
May Allah forgive us our shortcomings and allow us to die upon Islam. Ameen.
Our sister Fatima Aulaqi — may Allah reward her with good — has started an online fundraiser for the people of Yemen that is now approach $200,000. Please consider donating here:
Allah Knows Best.
