Saturday, July 28, 2012

Ramaḍān: the time to reconnect with Qur’an

(Text of the khuṭbah delivered at UBC on Friday, July 28, 2012)

[First khuṭbah]

الحمد لله رب العالمين والصلاة والسلام على الأنبياء والمرسلين،

أما بعد، قال الله تعالى في القرآن الكريم:

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وقال تعالى:

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وقال تعالى أيضا:

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We praise God, who is the sustainer of all that exists, and we invoke His blessings on His messengers.

Brothers and sisters, I have recited before you three passages from Qur’an.

In the first of these passages (al-Baqarah 185), God says Ramaḍān is the month in which Qur’an was sent down as guidance and (a set of) clear signs. So believers who witness the month should fast.

In the second of these passages (al-Dukhān 3–6), God says He sent down Qur’an in the “blessed night” as mercy for mankind.

In the third passage (al-Qadr 1), God says He sent down Qur’an during the “night of power”.

We notice in these āyāt that the revelation of Qur’an in Ramaḍān makes the month special, so God wants us to fast during the month. Blessed is the night during which Qur’an was revealed. The night becomes the night of power, in which all matters of importance are decided upon.

I have tried to draw your attention to the fact that the Qur’anic connection of Ramaḍān is what makes the month special. And why does the revelation of Qur’an make the month special?

Because this word of God that we know as Qur’an is the bedrock of the Islamic religion. It is the decisive evidence from God’s side that strips all false religious notions of any significance. It is the sulṭān, the burhān that seriously undermines all false religious and quasi-religious ideas. The Qur’anic scripture is the main advantage Islam has over other religions. This is why the month is special.

So when the month arrives, God wants us to commemorate the revelation of Qur’an by fasting during the month, and reading through the āyāt of Qur’an during the night prayers and otherwise. It is a time to reconnect with Qur’an.

It is a time not only to recite the passages of Qur’an, but to understand them, and to remind ourselves of what Qur’an has to offer. It is a time to rediscover the Qur’anic basis for our belief and action.

Yet, regrettably, most of us fail to achieve any significant reconnection with Qur’an.

It is because we only recite Qur’an without understanding it. Even when we try to understand Qur’an, we look at it from a narrow fiqhī (or juristic) perspective. We are so occupied by what I call the “Islamic legalism” that we fail to see how much more Qur’an has to offer.

In particular, we miss out on two important dimensions of the Qur’anic discourse: (1) the Qur’anic attempt to generate an ethical consciousness in a reader, (2) the Qur’anic justification of Islamic belief. These are the two dimensions I would like to talk about today.  

[Ethical Dimension of the Qur’anic Discourse]

I will first talk about the ethical consciousness that Qur’an seeks to awaken in a reader.

Brothers and sisters, there are actually very few clearly-cut legal precepts or instructions concerning individual behavior in Qur’an. Much of Qur’an is actually concerned with stirring up a God-fearing conscience (or ḍamīr, as it is called in Arabic) that would guide a reader through his life. Qur’an wants to turn us into ethical beings. Qur’an wants to stir up taqwá in us. And what is taqwá?

It is a state of mind where one loves God and fears His displeasure. It is a state of consciousness that keeps us from doing what is wrong, and facilitates us in doing what is right. It is moral consciousness that guides us in everything we say or do. It is the consciousness of God that makes us humble and perceptive to advice and admonition; we are no longer rash and dismissive in our approach. And it is this moral consciousness that Qur’an wants to instill in us.

When someone came to the Messenger to find out about virtue (or birr), he reportedly said,

استفت قلبك، البر ما اطمأنت إليه النفس واطمأن إليه القلب، والإثم ما حاك في النفس وتردد في الصدر وإن أفتاك الناس وأفتوك.

Ask your heart! Virtue is what satisfied your nafs and your heart. And evil is what causes friction in your nafs, and about which you waver, even if people tell you again and again (that it is ok to do it). (reported in Ibn Ḥanbal’s Musnad, al-Dārimī’s Sunan, and al-Nawawī’s Forty Ḥadīth)

In this instance, the Messenger was talking about the same ethical consciousness that Qur’an seeks to awaken in us.

So why does Qur’an want to instill in us this moral consciousness?

It is because the number of situations where we have to discern right from wrong are infinite. No degree of legalism and no amount of fiqhī literature can cover for the kind of situations we come across in our lives. In so many situations, we must exercise our judgment.

But we see that we are not used to exercising our judgment. We stumble and trip when fiqhī guidance is not available. So many of us are highly observant of fiqhī precepts, but are still not effective moral beings.

It is because we have been missing out on the ethical dimension of the Qur’anic discourse. We are not the kind of ethical beings that Qur’an wanted us to be.

It is the absence of this ethical consciousness and our fixation with fiqh that results in such simplistic inferences as: “Islam emphasizes shūrá, so democracy must be Islamic” or “‘Uthmān Ibn ‘Affān was a wealthy merchant, so why should Islam have a problem with capitalism?”

Look at some of the Western critiques of democracy and capitalism, and look at the naivety of the contemporary Islamic discourse. We need to be more creative than that. And a greater degree of creativity is only possible when we have imbibed the ethical spirit of Qur’an and approach the contemporary world with a critical Islamic mind.

Fiqh cannot take us so far. Law-making and jurisprudence is essential for a civilization, but not sufficient by itself to sustain a civilization. This is because jurisprudence by nature is reactive. Jurisprudence considers the permissibility or impermissibility of a phenomenon only in retrospect. Jurisprudence does not invent new products for human civilization. Nor can jurisprudence evaluate complex civilizational developments such as democracy and capitalism. Jurisprudence is only good for pruning of civilizational reality.

For centuries now, we have been missing Islamic creativity and we are almost exclusively occupied with fiqh. The result is that we have no share in shaping the reality that surrounds us. We are only trying to reconcile with a reality that others have created for us. We are trying to find ways to reconcile with contemporary economic and banking practices. We are trying to see what kind of a transformation has gelatin undergone in marshmallows, so we could eat them. We are appealing to the fiqhī precept of istihlāk (or dilution) so we could eat cheese made with the help of animal enzyme. We have even come up with a discipline called fiqh al-aqallīyāt – the fiqh for Muslim minorities.

But the bitter truth is that we are at the tail-end of civilization. We are mere consumers of civilization. We have no share whatsoever in shaping the reality around us. And every other product of contemporary civilization flouts our religious ideals.

So do you think our fixation with fiqh is sustainable? How long can we last like that?

If we want to have any share in shaping the reality around us, if we want to contribute anything to human civilization; we have to resuscitate Islamic creativity in all walks of life, in all fields of studies, in all aspects of civilization. And for this, we have to experience the ethical dimension of the Qur’anic discourse first hand – it is indispensable.

A new Islamic reality will only come into being if each one of us imbibes the ethical spirit of Qur’an, and we pursue diverse fields of studies, master them, and then invent a range of civilizational products that are Islamic at heart.  

[Qur’anic case for the Islamic religion]

Let me now turn to the second dimension of the Qur’anic discourse that we tend to miss out: that is the Qur’anic justification of Islamic belief, the Qur’anic case for the Islamic religion.

Qur’an informs and educates us about the metaphysical reality. It records the objections of the audiences of various Messengers and responds to them. Qur’an even addresses issues like atheism – which we tend to think of as new challenges. But the truth is that the audiences of many Messengers behaved in atheistic ways. And Qur’an records that.

The Israelites, for example, said to Mūsá that we shall not believe you unless you bring God face-to-face with us (al-Baqarah 55). Similarly, Fir‘awn asked Hamān to build a lofty tower so that he may see Mūsá’s God (al-Qaṣaṣ 38, al-Mu’min 36). What is this other than frank atheism?

Qur’an responds to such objections and argues its case, and provides us the basis for our belief and action.

Regrettably, many of us today do not know why we believe certain things and why we behave in certain ways. The minds of the youth are marred by doubts. And as a community, we are failing to answer their questions and clear their doubts. Again, because of our fixation with fiqh, we are only talking about what is expected of them as Muslims, but many of them are not even sure if they should continue to be Muslims – may be not among those who come to Friday prayers; but there are so many others who no longer come to mosques.

Only a reconnection with Qur’an and an experience of the Qur’anic case can alleviate such confusions. We have taken certain things for granted for too long. It is time that we re-discover their Qur’anic bases.

With this I conclude the first khuṭbah. May Allah enable us to reconnect with Qur’an! Amen.  


[Second khuṭbah]

الحمد لله والصلاة والسلام على رسول الله.

Brothers and sisters: In the first khuṭbah, I have talked about the need to reconnect with Qur’an. In particular, I have talked about the need to experience the ethical dimension of the Qur’anic discourse, and the need to experience the Qur’anic case and the Qur’anic justification for the Islamic religion.

Of course, for this purpose, we need to read and understand Qur’an.

But there are some barriers that keep us from approaching Qur’an successfully. In the second khuṭbah, I want to briefly talk about those barriers and how we can overcome some of them.  

[Barriers to approaching Qur’an]

The first of these barriers is not knowing Arabic, and having to rely on translations that are not so exciting. 

In this regard, I can only encourage you to learn the language. It’s going to take a few years, but we have to start somewhere. With all the resources available nowadays on the internet to learn the Arabic language, I don’t think we have any excuse not to learn the language, particularly when we can spend so much time and money to study secular disciplines of knowledge.

The second barrier is commentaries or tafāsīr of Qur’an.

As strange as it may sound, the commentaries can sometimes be a veil that blocks access to the word of God. Commentaries can be very distracting. If you try to read the commentary for each and every āyah, you may never finish your first reading of Qur’an. 

Also, if we read too much of commentary, we tend to get so close to the tree that we lose sight of the jungle. While we explore the details in an āyah, we often lose the big picture; we fail to follow the discussion in a sūrah.

I am a beginner myself, but if I may recommend, I’d say that you try to avoid commentary as much as possible. Try to follow the actual text of Qur’an (or its translation). Read commentary only when it’s absolutely necessary – when you cannot decipher the meaning of an āyah otherwise.

Finally, our impression that Qur’an is to be read by specialists only is a barrier too.

The argument for specialization sounds great: if we have specialization in medicine and law, why should the study of Islam be an exception? Why should we not rely on specialists in the study of Qur’an and Islam just as we rely on qualified physicians and lawyers in medicine and law respectively?

But the problem is that not every one of you is a practitioner of medicine and law. Yet every one of you is a practitioner of religion. And being practitioners of religion, you ought to know religion as much as a general physician knows medicine – and a general physician knows quite a bit of medicine.

In his time, the Messenger gave concessions to people who were Bedouins, who could not read and write, and who were struggling for survival on a daily basis. Those concessions were not for people like myself and you, who can afford to be at a university, who are well-versed in one or more languages, who are studying for better livelihoods, who have all kinds of resources available at their disposal. If anything is lacking, it is the drive to learn more about Islam and ability to manage time effectively. I don’t think those concessions apply to us – the educational elite of the Muslim world.

I am sure many of you try to recite Qur’an during Ramaḍān, and you aim to finish at least one reading by the end of the month. Let me propose another way to finish a reading of Qur’an by the end of Ramaḍān next year:

Next Ramaḍān, instead of reading Qur’an in just 30 days without understanding, I propose that you start reading Qur’an with understanding now or in Shawwāl. Try to study two juz’ and a half every month, and in twelve months (by the end of Ramaḍān next year), you’ll have finished 30 juz’ – you’ll finish one reading of Qur’an with understanding. Two juz’ and a half is not a lot for a month.

My first reading of Qur’an was like that: it was over a period of one year in a ḥalaqah.

And it helps to be in a ḥalaqah or a study circle. The circle pulls you when you slow down, and keeps you going when you would otherwise fall out.  

[Du‘ā’]

Brothers and sisters, Let us pray to God:

O Allah, bless us with Your mercy in the first ten days of Ramaḍān, Your forgiveness in the next ten days, and rescue us from hellfire in the last ten days of Ramaḍān.

O Allah, help our oppressed brethren in Burma, Asam, Kashmir, Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, Palestine, and Bahrain.

O Allah, help the oppressed people throughout the world. Make things easy for them.

O Allah, enable us to reconnect with Qur’an this Ramaḍān and the following year.

اللهم ارحمنا بالقرآن الكريم، واجعله لنا إماما ونورا وهدى ورحمة، اللهم ذكرنا منه ما نسينا، وعلمنا منه ما جهلنا، وارزقنا تلاوته آناء اليل وآناء النهار، واجعله لنا حجة يارب العالمين.

اللهم أرنا الحق حقا وارزقنا اتباعه، وأرنا الباطل باطلا وارزقنا اجتنابه.

اللهم إنا نسألك رزقا واسعا وعلما نافعا وعملا متقبلا.

ربنا اشرح لنا صدورنا، ويسر لنا أمورنا، واحلل عقدة من ألسنتنا يفقهوا قولنا.

ربنا آتنا في الدنيا حسنة وفي الآخرة حسنة وقنا عذاب النار.

سبحان ربك رب العزة عما يصفون، وسلام على المرسلين، والحمد لله رب العالمين.

وأقم الصلاة.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Moon-sighting and the Beginning of a Lunar Month for Muslims

The Islamic-hijrī calendar is a lunar calendar based on the revolution of moon around the earth. The calendar is still used to determine the beginning and the end of the month of fasting (i.e. Ramaḍān) and the beginning of the month of Islamic pilgrimage or ḥajj (i.e. Dhū al-Ḥijjah), if not for other purposes.

Traditionally, sighting of the waxing crescent (hilāl) has been used to mark the end of one lunar month and the beginning of the next. This is in accordance with Qur’an and the recorded practice of Muḥammad (ṣallá allāh ‘alayhi wa-sallama) that identify hilāl as a marker of the beginning of a month. However, neither Qur’an nor the recorded practice of the messenger forbid the use of other means to establish the end of a month and the beginning of the next.

Awaiting the beginning of Ramaḍān 1433 last night, I was puzzled and somewhat disturbed by the way some organizations in Vancouver, Canada announced Friday, July 20 to be the first day of Ramaḍān and others delayed it until Saturday, July 21.

While some members of the Muslim community are concerned about unity (or disunity) of Muslims across a country (as large as Canada) or even a continent, and some others are concerned about adhering to the Islamic texts as closely as possible, I am most troubled by the beginning of Ramaḍān or the celebration of ‘īd on two different days within the same city, sometimes within the same household. Of course, difficulty scheduling your days off from work is an issue too, but not so big as two members of the same family celebrating ‘īd on two different days.

Last night, most Islamic organizations in Vancouver, BC that claim to follow the “calculation” method (as if there is just one type of calculation) announced the beginning of Ramaḍān from Friday, July 20. Two organizations that insist on actual moon-sighting delayed the beginning of Ramaḍān until Saturday, July 21. Pro-calculation Muslims quickly responded to the announcement of Ramaḍān by organizations that have the reputation of being pro-calculation. Even though I am pro-calculation myself, I was troubled by the fact that hilāl was impossible even by calculation in Vancouver last night, yet the pro-calculation organizations announced the beginning of Ramaḍān. The moon set in Vancouver at 9:05 pm, three minutes before sunset (9:08 pm) on July 19. Today, on July 20, the moon will set at 9:32 pm, twenty five minutes after sunset (9:07 pm) – today is the first time the waxing crescent will last on the horizon for a few minutes after sunset, whether we see it or not.

How do organizations that announced the beginning of Ramaḍān last night justify their decision then? They appeal to another fiqhī precept that the moon sighted in one part of a Muslim state is enough of a justification to start Ramaḍān throughout the state – even if hilāl is impossible in some towns. The view dates as far back as Abū Ḥanīfah. Here the question arises: why should such anomaly be tolerated if the initial justification for substituting actual moon-sighting with “calculation” was the “certainty” and “accuracy” conferred by modern astronomical calculations? How can people appeal to the certainty/accuracy offered by astronomical calculations to abandon actual moon-sighting, and then abandon the same accuracy of astronomical calculations for their city to join such transnational organizations as ISNA or FCNA in beginning and ending Ramaḍān? This does not make sense!

Organizations that forsake the accuracy of astronomical calculation as well as actual moon-sighting for their towns to join transnational organizations or even Saudi Arabia may cite the desire for unity across countries, continents, even the globe as a justification for this. Yet there will be people (like myself) in every town, who would delay beginning or ending Ramaḍān until hilāl is actually possible in their town. The inevitable result is that people in the same city will celebrate ‘īd on two different days. Why? Because some of us seek transnational unity while ignoring the need for unity within a town and within a household!

I argue for a shift of emphasis from transnational and trans-continental unity to unity within a city and a household. That is only possible if people are more concerned with when its going to be hilāl (either by calculation or by actual sighting of the moon) in their own towns. And, of course, they will have to stop looking up to transnational organizations like ISNA and FCNA to tell them when to start or end their Ramaḍān. (At some point, these transnational organizations will have to be told too that they need not cater to every town in a continent – or if they so want to help, they should tell individual towns when its going to be hilāl for them.)

Local unity is easier to achieve than global unity. Moreover, if we are truly concerned about beginning and ending Ramaḍān when its really due, unity beyond a town is neither desirable nor possible. When a country is huge, hilāl is possible in some cities before others. Why should we even try to get people from distant cities to begin Ramaḍān or celebrate ‘īd the same day? Yet, it is desirable that people residing in the same city begin Ramaḍān and celebrate ‘īd the same day.

So how do we proceed? How do we effect a shift in emphasis from global to local unity? As difficult as it may seem, we cannot escape the need for consensus among members of the Muslim community. That consensus, if at all possible, cannot be achieved without educating the Muslim public and seeking their opinion in turn. Thus, the issue will have to be publicly debated, and consensus built by passing resolutions. Some individuals, mosques, and/or organizations who do not fear individual Muslims' agency will have to take the initiative. Others will come along later.

It is difficult, but not impossible. What we need is vision and will!

PS: Some of my friends have objected to my advocacy of “unity”. I understand unity is an over-rated (and arguably a false) value, but I think it is impossible to escape the desirability of “unity” (at the level of a town) in a “comm-unity” affair like ‘īd. Even so, I have not gone so far as to suggest formulae for “uniting” pro-calculation and pro-sighting Muslims in a town. This is because I do not think people should forsake their principled stances for the sake of unity. From my point of view, if only the calculationist Muslims showed greater concern for the possibility (or impossibility) of hilāl in their own town than joining transnational organizations or the Government of Saudi Arabia, Muslims in any city would be much likelier to begin Ramaḍān and celebrate ‘īd the same day.