A few wee things
- I went to jummah on the campus yesterday. I was the only female there and there were about 20 guys. I am only just starting to realise that the mosque is seen as a place primarily for men. I don’t see any real reason for this and it quite disappoints me actually. I think it might be one of the biggest frustrations for me if I convert. After telling himself about it, he told me about 2 male members of his family, both of whom are quite religious – one of them (who incidentally has lived in Britain and been to a lot of religious classes here) takes his wife and sister to the mosque despite that not being the norm, and the other one doesn’t. I think that clearly shows it is cultural. Also the whole idea that it is sort of up to the men whether their women go to the mosque boggles my mind. He said to me “there will be a lot of things you’ll find strange.”
- There seems to have been a spate of blogs closing or going private lately. I feel so shocked when people just disappear without a word like that, and always wonder about what led to the decision.
- I’ve been thinking about religious arguments or debates, and how far to take them. A friend showed me this verse from the Quran which I think is awesome: “16:125 CALL THOU (all mankind) unto thy Sustainer’s path with wisdom and goodly exhortation, and argue with them in the most kindly manner- for, behold, thy Sustainer knows best as to who strays from His path, and best knows He as to who are the right-guided.” I think the motivation should always be to guide towards truth out of kindness or concern, not to make oneself feel more secure or to impose anything on anyone. In the age of information people very rarely need to be “told” anything. Besides, we may not be right in our own thinking, so humility is required for a truly constructive conversation. Some things for me to think about.
- I am really enjoying praying. I am over the culture shock and it really doesn’t feel any different to how I felt worshipping in the past. I especially love the beginning of al-Faatiha, which loosely means “Praise be to God, sustainer of all that is, the gracious, the merciful”. That’s what it’s all about isn’t it? Being mindfully present throughout the prayer is always a challenge, but maybe that’s why there are several rakaahs – several chances to fully inhabit the words and the movements. I like how easy it’s been to start making my own private supplication (dua) due to there being a space for it in the ritual. There was no reason why I couldn’t have done that before, and I often thought that I should, but I just felt daunted by having a blank canvas. Making 5 daily appointments just makes it so much easier!
- Convictions taking shape and solidifying takes as long as it takes. I have beliefs and a practice and I am comfortable with them. Deciding to identify with a religion is a matter of conviction on very specific issues, which may not even be that important in the grand scheme of things. So I feel that I need to stop ruminating over it so much, because it is taking up far too much of my time and energy anyway.
At this point in my life
Done so many things wrong
I don’t know if I can do right
Done so many things wrong
I don’t know if I can do right
At this point in my life
I’ve done so many things wrong
I don’t know if I can do right
If you put your trust in me
I hope I won’t let you down
If you give me a chance
I’ll try
You see it’s been a hard road, the road I’m traveling on
And if I take your hand I might lead you down the path to ruin
I’ve had a hard life, I’m just saying it so you’ll understand
That right now, right now, I’m doing the best I can
At this point in my life
At this point in my life
Although I’ve mostly walked in the shadows
I’m still searching for the light
Won’t you put your faith in me
We both know that’s what matters
If you give me a chance
I’ll try
You see I’ve been climbing stairs but mostly stumbling down
I’ve been reaching high, always losing ground
You see I’ve conquered hills, but I still have mountains to climb
And right now, right now, I’m doing the best I can
At this point in my life
Before we take a step
Before we walk down that path
Before I make any promises
Before you have regrets
Before we talk commitment
Let me tell you of my past
All I’ve seen and all I’ve done
The things I’d like to forget
At this point in my life
At this point in my life
I’d like to live as if only love mattered
As if redemption was in sight
As if the search to live honestly
Is all that anyone needs
No matter if you find it
You see when I’ve touched the sky
The earth’s gravity has pulled me down
But now I’ve reconciled that in this world
Birds and angels get the wings to fly
If you can believe in this heart of mine
If you can give it a try
Then I’ll reach inside and find and give you
All the sweetness that I have
At this point in my life
At this point in my life
Why is it not in the Quran?
I am still hiccupping over the issue of menstruation and worship. I know I’ve been through it a lot before, but I still can’t seem to arrive at an opinion. It’s an issue that exemplifies my struggles with religion in general and begs the general question: WHY IS IT NOT IN THE QURAN?
Firstly, it bothers me that women might have to miss out on praying and also potentially on things like the last 10 days of Ramadan and Eid prayers etc. Why does the Quran bend over backwards to allow people to pray even when they can’t find water to wash with? Presumably because it is important. So why should it be OK for women to miss out on this? If you say that women can maintain a connection to God through dhikr and dua, my question would be, what’s the difference then? What is it about salaah that requires cleanliness? Why is salaah important anyway if we can have a connection to God through dhikr and dua? Perhaps it isn’t important… after all, from the Quranic perspective, people of other faiths can go to heaven and they don’t do salaah the same way. A connection to God seems to be important.
Secondly, and onto my main question, for me to believe salaah is out during menstruation, I have to understand why it’s not in the Quran. This ties in with the question about why it’s addressed mostly to men, although I will not address that in this post. I suppose you could say that the Quran doesn’t specify everything, for example it doesn’t say you must clean yourself with water when going to the toilet. After all the whole premise behind the menstruation thing – notwithstanding some people who try to say that it is about “hardship” – is that such waste makes you unclean, which ostensibly includes menstrual blood. Actually I agree that it is unclean, but I’m not entirely convinced that washing with water after using the toilet is necessary anyway. It’s something I do just because I am happy to do it for its own sake.
Is it possible that all of the hadiths about cleanliness and menstruation are inauthentic? Along with all the other hadiths involving things that aren’t in the Quran, like the evil eye? I know it is only a small minority of Muslims that would be willing to consider the possibility that these things did not really happen. And I don’t know the history of hadiths well enough to know whether I think it is a possibility. But if these things did happen – if there were concepts and rules established beyond the scope of the Quran – I find this very perplexing. Presumably Muhammad’s sayings were not revelation experiences otherwise they would have gone into the Quran. So how could he be sure that he was right? Either the hadiths are painting an inaccurate picture, or he really was (rightfully or wrongfully) confident about making extra-revelatory judgments. If he was wrongfully confident, then this would seem to suggest he wasn’t really a prophet and so even the Quran is not from God. But if that were the case and he was making the whole thing up, probably he would have put those extra rules in the Quran too. The only possibilities left, if one accepts the Quran, are: (1) the hadiths giving extra rulings beyond the scope of the Quran are inauthentic, or (2) he was rightfully confident about making those extra rulings; perhaps they were revelations of a different kind. Even if (2) is true, I have some doubt about whether God would want to subject important messages to the hadith transmission mechanism which is undeniably flawed. It could only work in the form of verbatim oral recitations (or written scriptures) that were viewed as the words of God and so would be respected and transmitted with the utmost fidelity. For example I don’t think all the details of salaah are laid out in the Quran because I don’t think they matter. I don’t think there is just one way to do it.
Or perhaps the things that come from hadiths are things that were pre-existing. Ritual uncleanliness during menstruation and stoning for adultery are two examples off the top of my head of things that were pre-existing and are not specified in Quran. A less severe punishment of 100 lashes for adultery is given in Quran, which makes the hadiths on this particular matter even more surprising. Maybe they were pre-existing things that were allowed to continue. Or maybe they didn’t happen but they later spuriously found their way into hadiths because they were long-standing traditions.
In summary, I can’t seem to even practise the pillars of Islam without getting stuck on the question: why do we have hadiths that add rules on top of what’s in the Quran. Believing such rules are not that important, through one argument or another, seems to be the way I’m going. I am fully aware that this is a lonely road to take.
Turning down invitations
As my moral values have changed, I suppose I’ve started to turn down more invitations. Sometimes I ask myself if this is really necessary, or if I am just withdrawing from the world.
I know of two Christian postgrad students in my school. One is universally liked, talks to absolutely everybody, and yet doesn’t drink and appears not to go to any social outings that involve bars. I don’t think I’ve even seen her go for a drink at the student union. The other is a bit quieter, and goes along to more social events, and drinks in moderation. I have heard people talk behind her back about her “boring” level of drinking and about her refusal to share a tent with a guy on a field trip.
It may not be that the first one gets more respect because she stays away, but her example certainly shows it is possible to be friends with a lot of people without going to bars.
It’s difficult to tell someone, though, that you don’t like to go to bars. The other day me and himself were walking to the cinema – we rarely go out at the weekend now – and as we passed bars full of early-evening merriment, places we both frequented in the past, I commented on how alien and uninviting they seemed and how unbelievable it was that I had ever liked going there. But how can you tell someone that without sounding as if you’re judging their lifestyle?
I used to be more inclined to go along and just put up with it. A few months ago himself sharply criticised me for going out to a bar for the night with my Arabic class-mates – probably more sharply critical because he was working away at the time and was disappointed I didn’t get time to phone him that night – and I didn’t take kindly to it; if I’m honest though, he was right. I should have at the most stayed for one soft drink and then left. But I stayed to the point where several members of the group were quite drunk, which in itself made my being there pointless. There were also inappropriate jokes made to me, and other things that I think the guys just wouldn’t have done if my husband was beside me. That makes me quite cross thinking about it now. I remember the long modest top I was wearing and feeling glad of it, but also, feeling out of place in it.
Sometimes I am not sure whether I am becoming nit-picky, or whether in reality I had been desensitised to seeing alcohol abuse and lewdness and disrespect through my youth and now I am actually seeing it for what it is. Is it a big enough deal to want to withdraw from certain patterns of socialising? I think it is, but I have difficulty letting other people know that. :S
Ablution in the Quran
The subtitle for this post is, “Why does it only address the men?”
O YOU who have attained to faith! When you are about to pray, wash your face, and your hands and arms up to the elbows, and pass your [wet] hands lightly over your head, and [wash] your feet up to the ankles. And if you are in a state requiring total ablution*, purify yourselves. But if you are ill, or are travelling, or have just satisfied a want of nature**, or have cohabited with a woman, and can find no water – then take resort to pure dust, passing therewith lightly over your face and your hands. God does not want to impose any hardship on you, but wants to make you pure, and to bestow upon you the full measure of His blessings, so that you might have cause to be grateful. (Sura 5:6)
O YOU who have attained to faith! Do not attempt to pray while you are in a state of drunkenness, [but wait] until you know what you are saying; nor yet [while you are] in a state requiring total ablution*, until you have bathed – except if you are travelling [and are unable to do so]. But if you are ill, or are travelling, or have just satisfied a want of nature, or have cohabited with a woman, and can find no water – then take resort to pure dust, passing [therewith] lightly over your face and your hands. Behold, God is indeed an absolver of sins, much-forgiving. (Sura 4:43)
*I.e., after sexual intercourse. The term junub (rendered by me as “in a state requiring total ablution”) is derived from the verb janaba, “he made (a thing) remote”, and signifies one’s remoteness from prayer because of immersion in sexual passion.
**Lit., “if one of you comes from the place in which one satisfies…”, etc.
AND THEY will ask thee about [woman's] monthly courses. Say: “It is a vulnerable condition. Keep, therefore, aloof from women during their monthly courses, and do not draw near unto them until they are cleansed… (Sura 2:222)
Some thoughts:
- What I have been taught as wudu, and what I believe most do, is basically the same as described in Quran, with the inclusion of mouth, nose and ears. I don’t really see these as extra steps but details of the face.
- It doesn’t directly say that going to the toilet nullifies wudu, nor does it even say directly that sexual intercourse requires ghusl (total ablution). But it does allude to this by saying if you have done these things and can find no water…
- The repeated sentence which begins “But if you are ill…” confused me, but I think the logic of it makes sense like this: IF [ill] OR [travelling] OR [[went to the toilet OR had intercourse] AND can’t find water] THEN make tayyammum (dry ablution) instead. I guess if you are ill you shouldn’t use water if it will make your illness worse, and if you are travelling perhaps you wouldn’t have had enough water with you for washing as well as drinking.
- It doesn’t detail the procedure for ghusl (bathing).
- As indicated in the footnote, going to the toilet requires some kind of washing with water (presumably wudu), but I am doubtful whether passing gas is included in this category, since that does not necessarily mean going to “the place in which one satisfies… etc”. Presumably there are hadiths that specify that passing gas nullifies wudu.
- The only hint in the Quran about menstruation in this regard is from the verse I quoted above, where intercourse during menstruation is forbidden “until they are cleansed”. I think the Arabic word used here was Taher which also means pure. So it could be indirectly saying that menstrual blood is an impurity. But when you can’t purify yourself due to lack of water, this is no excuse not to pray because you can make tayyammum – a lesser type of ablution which is not adequate under normal circumstances. This says to me that keeping up the prayers is more important than perfect ablution. So why is this not the case with menstruating women? The only difference is that you can’t purify yourself not due to lack of water but due to a continual and uncontrollable flow of blood. So I suppose even if you made ablution (imperfectly), arguably it would immediately be broken by a further flow of blood. What bothers me more than anything else is that men alone seem to be being addressed in these verses (e.g. “cohabited with a woman”) and the issue of menstruation is not mentioned. Why? I know the Quran explicitly addresses both men and women in other places, but it seems to address men more often than women. An explicit command about menstruation and religious duties would have been nice.
- I don’t go along with the popular idea that women can’t touch the Quran during menstruation, as discussed through comments on LK’s post. I think any sensible person would treat the book with respect and only read it with clean hands, but as the hadith said, “menstruation is not in your hands”.
Giving thanks
I sometimes think my attraction to religion is an attraction to an alternative me that I want to be. A me that gets up at the crack of dawn to pray, is calmly spiritual, devotedly faithful, peacefully mature. The real me has always fallen far away from that. The real me is stricken with worry, lurching from one crisis of faith to another, getting overwhelmed and losing all resolve. I am kidding myself if I think that I’m going to arrive at faith, make a commitment, and then it’ll be plain sailing. (Bear with me, there’s a positive coming 
)
This week for example, I don’t even know what’s happened, but after making strides with establishing a prayer routine, and even stepping out in hijab last weekend, it somehow became a real struggle. It might have something to do with other big stresses this week. I lost confidence, I lost patience. I guess I have been back at where I was when I stopped going to church – feeling like a victim and wondering why God doesn’t care. Astaghfirullah!
I need to drop any expectations of a quick fix. I am not going to get a personality transplant by starting to pray. I am not going to instantly have a deep knowledge of God. These things take practice. I really should stop thinking in black and white, stop pressuring myself, stop hating what I am. Otherwise I will be right back to resenting all religious obligations.
This is exactly applicable to other aspects of my life too. I resent work obligations, for example. I am just someone who worries about getting it right, and secretly strives and agonises, to the point of exhaustion and loss of hope and loss of care.
I DON’T WANT TO BE A NEGATIVE PERSON.
I DON’T WANT TO BE A DRAMA QUEEN.
I DON’T WANT TO BE PERPETUALLY UNHAPPY.
I know how I want to be, what the right way to be is. But perhaps I can only move towards it by first accepting what I am now.
The best idea I had yesterday was to begin by “counting my blessings” as the saying goes. It just dawned on me that by being negative and unhappy and always wanting things to change, I am being really ungrateful for the good things in my life, of which there are many. How sad would it be to get everything I wanted and then realise that I still didn’t know how to appreciate it. Life is short, too short to wait to enjoy it. Giving thanks might be the best way to connect with God and foster humility. Rather than trying to force myself to not care about the things of this life, I will work on mentally connecting them with their Source.
Just a small step to take, but small steps are probably all I can manage. I am interested to see where it may take me.
Likewise, there would seem to be many positive things about me in my work that I am completely sabotaging by being so negative. I have enslaved myself to “perfection”, disrespecting the natural characteristics God has made me with because of my fear of man’s judgment. I will try and start to remind myself of my strengths and attribute everything to God.
Any advice is appreciated… and don’t mince your words… sometimes I need a verbal slap
Feeling far from God
I’m not sure how it can be that after so much thinking about God, I feel not very close to God. I feel like I don’t really know God… don’t have a clear picture of God… it has all been academic so far and not very personal… and so I don’t feel much towards God.
I mean, I know God is infinite mercy, and I should feel grateful to God for life and the chance to avail myself of that mercy… but I don’t. I know I should want to surrender myself to God, but I just don’t really understand what that means. I can think of lifestyles that are not surrendered to God, and I know I don’t want that, but mainly because I see it as bad for a person. I don’t see my choice of lifestyle as being an act of worship, or even much related to God. I suppose I should at least thank God that I’ve been guided away from some badness. I just find it hard to see God in it.
I know I can not be perfect, but I think I’m not very aware of my sin. So I don’t have much of a sense of needing to let go of things in surrender to God. One thing I am aware of is that I am fairly attached to the dunya (world), I worry about money and housing and children and even my retirement. Maybe I need to let go of that. Very hard though… I don’t entirely have faith that things will be “okay”, I don’t entirely trust God, and I certainly don’t trust myself to cope and remain faithful if things go “wrong”. This is a long-standing problem of mine.
Maybe this is what surrendering to God is about, then. Maybe I need to deepen my faith and knowledge of God to get there. It’s interesting that praying has brought me to these thoughts – maybe it is starting to work after all.
Spiritual lessons from calamity
One of my biggest doubts about religion has to do with the descriptions of God wiping out unrepentent people/communities, such as Sodom and Gomorrah, Pharaoh and the Egyptians in crossing the Red Sea, etc.
Firstly, it’s the fact that these events seem to be “natural” disasters such as tsunamis, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and so on. I think it’s certainly possible that God can use these type of events to achieve a bigger purpose. But to me, it resembles the kind of pre-scientific superstitions that people employed to explain things they couldn’t otherwise explain.
They could have been miracles, but they don’t sound like it. I can cope with the idea that there were miracles in the past. I think miracles probably had a place in earlier, more superstitious times, but they wouldn’t convince many people today because we are all so reasonable and sceptical. Those of us who are rational and believe in God see the laws of nature as being created, willed and sustained by God, so the idea of God breaking those laws seems unnecessary and counter-intuitive. I can’t see how anyone could think that just because something has a “natural” explanation, that it’s got nothing to do with God; that the only actions of God are where God apparently “steps in” and contravenes nature. This is a “God of the gaps” and it is a shrinking “God”, gradually being explained away.
So I think the parting and re-combining of the Red Sea was God, even if it was “natural”, but was its coincidence with the escape of the Israelites deliberate as the books say? If it was, does that mean that natural disasters today that kill people are also deliberate? That’s a difficult one isn’t it?
Somebody within the three faiths that believe in this story must have thought about this and come up with an explanation.
The second aspect that troubles me slightly is the suffering of the innocent when God wipes out communities for their evil. According to the Quran it only happens when that community has been warned by a messenger and has refused to repent, and when God knows they will never repent. In a way maybe it’s a mercy: God removes their influence from the world, and ends their lives before they make it worse and incur even more punishment. But as someone pointed out to me recently, there must have been children in these communities, innocent children. It seems that there are always innocents who suffer along with the guilty in any resultant catastrophe.
There doesn’t seem to be any more than a correlation between wrongdoing and calamity. Wrongdoing seems to unleash calamity into the world, in ways we can understand (e.g. the AIDS epidemic) and perhaps in ways we can’t (e.g. the Red Sea parting), but it’s never the case that all the guilty suffer and all the innocent escape suffering. There is an overlap.
Maybe these are all lessons to show us – humanity as a whole – right from wrong. Perhaps the suffering of the innocent is part of why wrongdoing is wrong. We are encouraged to think about the people around us that we affect, and not just be motivated by what benefits us individually.
Meat
Do Muslims eat zabiha* meat because of the prohibition on eating blood in the Quran?
I guess not, because it’s mentioned in the same sentence as the prohibition on the flesh of swine, and Muslims generally take the latter much more seriously than zabiha. So presumably eating non-zabiha meat is not tantamount to eating blood.
Or is it? Should non-zabiha be on a par with pork? Are Muslims being inconsistent if they abstain strictly from the latter but not the former?
I am undecided. The prohibition on blood could mean blood for the sake of blood, and in one of the verses it actually prohibits “blood poured forth” if I remember rightly. Meat inadvertently containing some blood could be OK, and let’s face it, there would always be some trace remaining even if it was a zabiha slaughter.
On the other hand, having eaten zabiha meat for years, I notice a taste difference when I go back to non-zabiha, and it’s not so good. And I can’t help but admit the halal butcher shop smells a lot nicer than the non-halal one. Subjectively, zabiha seems “better”. I would be interested in any studies on what difference it makes. I noticed in a TV programme where they were slaughtering goat kids I think it was, they drained the blood out even though it was a non-religious slaughter house – I would love to know why that is!
* zabiha means slaughtered in the traditional way by cutting the neck and draining the blood out. This method is detailed in the Old Testament, but not in the Quran as far as I can see.
