In response to Sheikh Gamard’s prompt for discussion group members to
address Shawn’s Question, I post my own, limited understanding of
these beautiful verses by Maulana:
“The tears of our eyes are running because of our separation
from thee; sigh after sigh is going (up) from the midst of our
souls."
I recall a saying which I believe was of Mansur Hallaj (unsure about
this), in which Hallaj states that God’s mercy is His nearness to us,
and God’s wrath is His distance from us. And, though God is always
near to us ("We are nearer to him than (his) jugular vein"), we are
not always of the realization or acknowledgment of His closeness,
precedence, and will in our lives (and all life, for that matter).
And, when we are in real acknowledgment of this reality, we act
accordingly, both in outward habit and inward reality. And, may I
add, only those who long for greater closeness (a greater
acknowledgment and realization on their own parts, as well as a giving
over of their personal wills to the greater will of God) will be teary
eyed, lamenting their own known and sensed separation from God.
Disbelievers do not cry; not, perhaps, until they are judged (as we
all will be), at which time they may realize their error, but will be
lacking in means to redress their own past ignorance).
"A babe does not contend with its nurse, but it weeps, although it
knows neither evil nor good."
As has been indicated to us elsewhere, children are all born in a
state of submission, and are only swayed from submission by their
environment. And, as I mentioned above, only those who are in
submission lament their separation from their Lord do to having sensed
that they were once so near (as a child in the womb) and are now so
much farther… Had we never known such closeness to God, all humans
would not secretly yearn for this closeness, as closeness to God is
the most powerful and fulfilling of experiences, such as a child when
it is satisfied completely, in all ways, while in the womb. And, may
it be added, mothers, as well, experience the pain of separation after
birth, thus God wishes us always to be close to Him (like children in
the womb), as we all, albeit, often secretly, or unknowingly, wish
nearness to Him. Furthermore, “it knows neither evil nor good” is
indicative of the state of the child, submission, in which, to my
understanding, dualism disappears, and only nonexistence
(selflessness) in submission remains; this being indicative of the
state of Adam and Eve before being cast out from the Garden.
Moreover, for us to lament, we must have developed some degree of
closeness/submission in order to allow the will of God to penetrate
through us; thus, our lamentation is truly His, as our wills are
increasingly naughted by His. See below:
"We are as the harp and thou art striking (it with) the plectrum
(playing on it): a lamentation is not from us, it is thou that art
making lamentation."
When we are in submission to God, we give over ourselves to God, as a
child in the womb gives over its own personal volition and
independence to that of its mother’s. Thus, God cries through the
believer, the one who is in a state of submission. And, now, my
understanding of these verses expands yet again…
"We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee; we are as the
mountain, and the echo in us is from thee.
We are as pieces of chess (engaged) in victory and defeat:
our victory and defeat is from thee, O thou whose qualities are
comely!
Who are we, O thou soul of our souls, that we should remain in
being beside thee?"
In a state of complete submission to God, we are naughted by him
(niistii), and, so far as I understand it (perhaps incorrectly), in
full submission, there is no one, no personal volition, no personified
attributes, only God. Thus, Mansur Hallaj’s infamous statement, “Ana-
l Haqq.” This, as I understand it, did not indicate that Hallaj was
God, but that he was no longer, and only God was (and is, and ever has
been). But, so far as my understanding of Rumi’s interpretation of
Hallaj’s statement, Rumi understands Hallaj’s statement as Hallaj was
proclaiming complete deference to God, absolving himself of all worth,
and making known that only God existed to him. So, either Hallaj
‘dissolved and was no longer,’ or entered into a complete state of
deference while still remaining Hallaj, or otherwise… Only God knows.
And, since we are navigating this point, I would like to kindly ask
Sheikh Gamard to elucidate for me, as well as all others present in
this discussion group, the distinction between the Hindu mystical
experience/interpretation of Dying into God and the Islamic
interpretation of Fanaa. I believe that this is perhaps the defining
feature which discriminates between Eastern and Abrahamic religions,
and may help us understand the reality of Hallaj, as well as the
direction to which Rumi taking us.
"We and our existences are (really) non-existences: thou art the
absolute Being which manifests the perishable (causes phenomena to
appear).
We all are lions, but lions on a banner: because of the wind they
are rushing onward from moment to moment.
Their onward rush is visible, and the wind is unseen: may that which
is unseen not fail from us!
Our wind (that whereby we are moved) and our being are of thy
gift; our whole existence is from thy brining (us) into being.”
The corporeal world appears to be moving of its own volition, but
there is an unseen mover, the prime reality upon which all is
contingent (God). If God wills, it is so; if God wills not, it is
not. For an intensely thorough analysis of this reality, consult
Hikmat al Ishraq, Suhrawardi’s most well known work.
Here, I’d like to add that if anything I have stated above has
misrepresented Rumi’s Islam, or your own sense and experience of
Islam, or of any diin, please understand that what I have stated is
solely my own limited understanding, interpretation, and experience…
Forgive me.
As’salaamu Aleykum.
Casey