Her story is better than most history
Some say good girls don’t make history. That is to say, unless you embody the alpha-male — the independent Amazonian woman — no one will remember you. In contrast, the modesty Islam exhorts for women (and encourages men to seek as well, albeit in a different form) lends itself to a worldly obscurity. It is a tough pill to swallow for some.
Yet, in Surah Maryam, Allah immortalizes the most modest women to live in his Eternal Word, letting us know that He sees everything — even when she retreats to a remote “Eastern place” (Surah Maryam). (Side note: It is from the East that the sun rises and radiates the world). The echoes of her archetype are infused into every single servant of God, man or woman, who devotes themselves with humility and obscurity.
What matters the history of man if you have been mentioned in the Speech of God? Their history — that of solitude and serenity — is sacred. Ours — that of aggressive ambition and statecraft — is scary.
What is even more admirable is her scruple. One can imagine that upon seeing an angel in the form of a man that she would joyfully celebrate the divine reward of her spiritual toil. However, she instead says: “I seek refuge in the Merciful from you, should you be God-fearing.” She is so cautious that she suspects a manifest angelic presence might instead by a source of mischief. Indeed, how easily do we infatuate ourselves with our own “spiritual experiences”? Who is to say they were not merely egoistic/psychological phenomena or even satanic? — like that of Samiriyy. Not to say we cannot have them; but we must be continually careful and always ask Allah to guide us. The station of wilaya (Divine Friendship) is not a throne; it is a tightrope.
Interestingly, upon witnessing the miraculous births — those of John the Baptist and Jesus — both Zachariyya and Maryam are enjoined into vows of silence. Why? It is as if only in silence that they (and we) can truly appreciate the awesomeness of new life. The crying of a baby should not be seen as disruption; it is a miracle. It is only in silence that we can hear and appreciate our own breath — our ruh (spirit) — and the breath of others. Silence lifts the veils of our garrulous ego to allow us to ponder the miracle that is creation — and the greater miracle that lies within it: life.
In both their cases, their children speak eloquently from an extraordinarily young age. “We gave Yahya wisdom (hikma) as a boy.” Speech is not reserved for certain people. It is reserved for hikma. Silence is its origin.
