Jesus in the Quran
My intention in this post is to give some Quranic verses and commentary from Muhammad Asad about Jesus. My intention is not to present my own views about Jesus. I would prefer not to get into any debates about the divinity of Jesus or other headaches like that.
The reason I want to post these is that they give what I think is a very reasonable account of Jesus within the context of the Islamic picture. (Whether it’s reasonable generally, I’m not going to say.) The interpretation differs from some Islamic concepts I’ve heard about Jesus, but I had difficulty assimilating those concepts into Islam, so I was interested by what I read here.
Firstly, the Quran seems to use Christian language – words that could be translated as “holy spirit” and so on – but seems to mean different things by it than what Christians mean, as explained. I’ve noticed this in other passages; it seems to reproduce previous scripture while narrowing and refining the definitions.
2:87 For, indeed, We vouchsafed unto Moses the divine writ and caused apostle after apostle to follow him; and We vouchsafed unto Jesus, the son of Mary, all evidence of the truth, and strengthened him with holy inspiration.*
* This rendering of ruh al-qudus (lit., “the spirit of holiness”) is based on the recurring use in the Qur’an of the term ruh in the sense of “divine inspiration”. It is also recorded that the Prophet invoked the blessing of the ruh al-qudus on his Companion, the poet Hassan ibn Thabit (Bukhari, Muslim, Abu Dd’ud and Tirmidhi): just as the Qur’an (58: 22) speaks of all believers as being “strengthened by inspiration (ruh) from Him”.
Here we see Jesus referred to as God’s word, but meaning really just the fulfilment of God’s promise:
4:171 O FOLLOWERS of the Gospel! Do not overstep the bounds [of truth] in your religious beliefs,* and do not say of God anything but the truth. The Christ Jesus, son of Mary, was but God’s Apostle – [the fulfilment of] His promise which He had conveyed unto Mary – and a soul created by Him.** Believe, then, in God and His apostles, and do not say, “[God is] a trinity”. Desist [from this assertion] for your own good. God is but One God; utterly remote is He, in His glory, from having a son: unto Him belongs all that is in the heavens and all that is on earth; and none is as worthy of trust as God.
* I.e., by raising Jesus to the rank of divinity. Since here the Christians are addressed specifically, I render the term kitab as “Gospel”.
** Lit., “His word which He conveyed unto Mary and a soul from Him”. According to Tabari, the “word” (kalimah) was “the announcement (risalah) which God bade the angels to convey to Mary, and God’s glad tiding to her” (a reference to 3: 45) – which justifies the rendering of kalimatuhu as “[the fulfilment of] His promise”. (See also note on 3: 39.) As regards the expression, “a soul from Him” or “created by Him”, it is to be noted that among the various meanings which the word ruh bears in the Qur’an (e.g., “inspiration” in 2: 87 and 253), it is also used in its primary significance of “breath of life”, “soul”, or “spirit”: thus, for instance, in 32: 9, where the ever-recurring evolution of the human embryo is spoken of: “and then He forms him [i.e., man] and breathes into him of His spirit” – that is, endows him with a conscious soul which represents God’s supreme gift to man and is, therefore, described as “a breath of His spirit”. In the verse under discussion, which stresses the purely human nature of Jesus and refutes the belief in his divinity, the Qur’an points out that Jesus, like all other human beings, was “a soul created by Him”.
The immaculate conception was something I could not understand in an Islamic context. Somehow I managed to completely miss the footnotes the first time around, but I already started to notice that the Quran doesn’t explicitly say Jesus was born to a virgin. It turns out on closer inspection that Muhammad Asad concurs with this.
19:19 [The angel] answered: “I am but a messenger of thy Sustainer, [who says,] ‘I shall bestow upon thee the gift of a son endowed with purity.’ ” 19:20 Said she: “How can I have a son when no man has ever touched me? – for, never have I been a loose woman!” 19:21 [The angel] answered: “Thus it is; [but! thy Sustainer says, ‘This is easy for me*; and [thou shalt have a son,] so that We might make him a symbol unto mankind and an act of grace from Us.’ ” And it was a thing decreed [by God]: 19:22 and in time she conceived him, and then she withdrew with him to a far-off place.
* Cf. the identical phrase in verse 9 above, relating to the announcement of John’s birth to Zachariah. In both these cases, the implication is that God can and does bring about events, which may be utterly unexpected or even inconceivable before they materialize. In connection with the announcement of a son to Mary, the Quran states in 3:47 that ‘‘when He wills a thing to be, He but says unto it, ‘Be’ – and it is’’: but since neither the Quran nor any authentic Tradition tells us anything about the chain of causes and effects (asbab) which God’s decree “Be’’ was to bring into being, all speculation as to the “how” of this event must remain beyond the scope of a Quran-commentary. (But see also note on 21:91.)
It says to see 21:91, so here that is too. This is a verse that could easily be misconstrued as supporting the immaculate conception if it was read with that in mind as a preconception:
21:91 AND [remember] her who guarded her chastity, whereupon We breathed into her of Our spirit*
and caused her, together with her son, to become a symbol [of Our grace] unto all people.* This allegorical expression, used here with reference to Mary’s conception of Jesus, has been widely – and erroneously – interpreted as relating specifically to his birth. As a matter of fact, the Quran uses the same expression in three other places with reference to the creation of man in general – namely in 15:29 and 38:72, “when I have formed him… and breathed into him of My spirit” and in 32:9, “and thereupon He forms [lit., “formed”] him fully and breathes [lit., “breathed’’] into him of His spirit”. In particular, the passage of which the last-quoted phrase is a part (i.e., 32:7-9) makes it abundantly and explicitly clear that God “breathes of His spirit” into every human being. Commenting on the verse under consideration, Zamakhshari states that “the breathing of the spirit [of God] into a body signifies the endowing it with life’’: an explanation with, which Razi concurs. (In this connection, see also note on 4:171.) As for the description of Mary as allati ahsanat farjaha, idiomatically denoting ‘‘one who guarded her chastity” (lit., “her private parts”) it is to be borne in mind that the term ihsan – lit., ‘‘[one’s] being fortified [against any danger or evil]” – has the tropical meaning of “abstinence from what is unlawful or reprehensible’’ (Taj al-Arus), and especially from illicit sexual intercourse, and is applied to a man as well as a woman: thus, for instance, the terms muhsan and muhsanah are used elsewhere in the Quran to describe, respectively, a man or a woman who is “fortified [by marriage] against unchastity”. Hence, the expression allati ahsanat farjaha, occurring in the above verse as well as in 66:12 with reference to Mary, is but meant to stress her outstanding chastity and complete abstinence, in thought as well as in deed, from anything unlawful or morally reprehensible: in other words, a rejection of the calumny (referred to in 4:156 and obliquely alluded to in 19:27-28) that the birth of Jesus was the result of an “illicit union”.
OK, so potentially no virgin birth… what about death? I’m sure we’ve all heard the Islamic concept that Jesus did not die, but take a look at this.
3:55 Lo! God said: “O Jesus! Verily, I shall cause thee to die, and shall exalt thee unto Me, and cleanse thee of [the presence of] those who are bent on denying the truth; and I shall place those who follow thee [far] above those who are bent on denying the truth, unto the Day of Resurrection. In the end, unto Me you all must return, and I shall judge between you with regard to all on which you were wont to differ.
It’s pretty clear, isn’t it? But then in the following verse the Quran appears to deny the crucifixion. At a Sufi workshop I was told that this verse had, in the past, been understood to mean that Jesus went willingly to the cross (and so nobody forcibly killed him). The interpretation by Muhammad Asad, on the other hand, is that the crucifixion did not happen at all and was a legend, and so the means of Jesus’ death is left unspecified.
4:157 and their boast, “Behold, we have slain the Christ Jesus, son of Mary, [who claimed to be] an apostle of God!” However, they did not slay him, and neither did they crucify him, but it only seemed to them [as if it had been] so;* and, verily, those who hold conflicting views thereon are indeed confused, having no [real] knowledge thereof, and following mere conjecture. For, of a certainty, they did not slay him: 4:158 nay, God exalted him unto Himself** – and God is indeed almighty, wise.
* Thus, the Qur’an categorically denies the story of the crucifixion of Jesus. There exist, among Muslims, many fanciful legends telling us that at the last moment God substituted for Jesus a person closely resembling him (according to some accounts, that person was Judas), who was subsequently crucified in his place. However, none of these legends finds the slightest support in the Qur’an or in authentic Traditions, and the stories produced in this connection by the classical commentators must be summarily rejected. They represent no more than confused attempts at “harmonizing” the Qur’anic statement that Jesus was not crucified with the graphic description, in the Gospels, of his crucifixion. The story of the crucifixion as such has been succinctly explained in the Qur’anic phrase wa-lakin shubbiha lahum, which I render as “but it only appeared to them as if it had been so” – implying that in the course of time, long after the time of Jesus, a legend had somehow grown up (possibly under the then-powerful influence of Mithraistic beliefs) to the effect that he had died on the cross in order to atone for the “original sin” with which mankind is allegedly burdened; and this legend became so firmly established among the latter-day followers of Jesus that even his enemies, the Jews, began to believe it – albeit in a derogatory sense (for crucifixion was, in those times, a heinous form of death-penalty reserved for the lowest of criminals). This, to my mind, is the only satisfactory explanation of the phrase wa-lakin shubbiha lahum, the more so as the expression shubbiha li is idiomatically synonymous with khuyyila 1i, “[a thing] became a fancied image to me”, i.e., “in my mind” – in other words, “[it] seemed to me” (see Qamus, art. khayala, as well as Lane II, 833, and IV, 1500).
** Cf. 3: 55, where God says to Jesus, “Verily, I shall cause thee to die, and shall exalt thee unto Me.” The verb rafa ahu (lit., “he raised him” or “elevated him”) has always, whenever the act of raf’ (“elevating”) of a human being is attributed to God, the meaning of “honouring” or “exalting”. Nowhere in the Qur’an is there any warrant for the popular belief that God has “taken up” Jesus bodily, in his lifetime, into heaven. The expression “God exalted him unto Himself” in the above verse denotes the elevation of Jesus to the realm of God’s special grace – a blessing in which all prophets partake, as is evident from 19: 57, where the verb rafa nahu (“We exalted him”) is used with regard to the Prophet Idris. (See also Muhammad ‘Abduh in Manar III, 316 f., and VI, 20f.) The “nay” (bal) at the beginning of the sentence is meant to stress the contrast between the belief of the Jews that they had put Jesus to a shameful death on the cross and the fact of God’s having “exalted him unto Himself”.
Again, I don’t want to discuss whether or not this is plausible. I just wanted to show what the Quran says and how this might be interpreted. My main point is that what Asad calls “fanciful legends” about Jesus within the Islamic tradition find no basis in the Quran. Another concept which is absent from the Quran is the idea of the second coming of Christ. I would guess that comes from hadiths, whether strong or not I don’t know.
What is belief?
The loss of faith of two popular figures in the online Muslim world has shocked a lot of people. I feel greatly sympathetic to the pain and upheaval this must be causing for them, and I hope and pray the direction they ultimately take is one that will make them happy and at peace.
I just wanted to give my thoughts on the question that everyone seems to be asking: “how could this happen?” All I know about these two individuals is what they’ve said on their videos. And what one of them said was that she “fell in love with the religion”. When I first started getting interested in religion again, over a year ago, I was struck by how motivated a lot of converts seemed to be by exactly that: a love or liking for the religion. I questioned back then whether that is equivalent to belief, and I now say a resounding “no”.
What is belief then? Think about it. If you were a member of a jury and had to decide whether somebody committed a crime, you would carefully explore all the evidence and then come to an opinion. Your opinion would be almost inevitable by then; you couldn’t just choose to believe something contrary to the evidence. The only thing that would change your mind would be if new evidence came to light.
In terms of religion, this pretty much means confronting the tricky questions and seeing if the religious arguments stand up. At times I have felt like a neurotic overthinking pedant going through this process. But now I feel completely validated in it. Because the fact is, we all have to confront those questions sooner or later! I cannot believe a person would convert to Islam without having thought about whether the concepts of heaven and hell make sense. Converting over an attraction to the religion – without asking these sorts of questions – is clearly risky.
For me, belief is coming to an undeniable awareness of God through wrestling with scripture and life and through deep reflection. It can certainly happen within the context of belonging to a religion. But it is not synonymous with belonging to a religion.
People who are shocked are people who are accustomed to boxing people neatly into “Muslim” and “non-Muslim” categories. I include myself to some extent! I just hope this makes us wake up and realise that we cannot let ourselves be fooled by the smoke and mirrors of outward appearances – hijabs, and buckets of knowledge, and a confident appearance of piety. The insincerity forced on these girls by their position of “fame” breaks my heart. We never knew Kim was struggling with prayer, and Erin was having doubts. How could they have admitted that to their doting followers? But these are the things that matter! It makes me wonder how many other people out there are pretending all is well and not asking for help until it may be too late.
I need a sincere relationship with God, and not just knowledge about God. And I thank God that I’ve been able to recognise this, however long it has taken – after all, I was previously a believer for the same kind of superficial reasons I’ve mentioned. Being honest is never going to make me as popular with Muslims as those girls, but that’s quite OK with me.
Didacticism
What makes a person impose their views on someone else, argumentatively? And why is it always the most rigid of any belief system that do this?
The more rigid I became as a Christian, the more I did this too. By the end of my first year at uni I went home for the summer full of zeal and fully believing myself to be on the right path. Every little thing my parents said about church sounded wrong to me, so I would argue over it. After a short while I realised what I was doing, and that it wasn’t humble or kind of me, and all my confidence drained out of me as I realised I was far from right.
At least my culture alerts me to the fact that it’s not nice to bulldoze somebody with your views. For a lot of Muslims, perhaps this is not so much the case. The judgmental nit-picking and criticising and didacticism (“this is how things are, FACT, and you’re wrong”) seems to be a big problem in the community. The most excellent response to it I’ve ever seen is in the anonymous comments in this post. I felt like applauding when I read them.
It can even drive people away from religion altogether. There is much speculation about this being the thing that pushed a popular blogger to leave Islam recently, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised. My own parents left the church because they couldn’t stand the zealous fundamentalists.
Atheist or anti-religious zeal is no better. You just don’t do yourself any favours by jumping on every religious person you come across and attacking whatever they might have said.
None of it is conducive to constructive discussions.
I don’t know about you, but when I come across blogs that I don’t like or where I don’t agree with the author’s views very much at all, I just close the window or click the back button. I don’t seek out blogs written by people with different views to me and try to argue them down. I seek out blogs with open-minded, similarly-thinking authors who I might learn something from; in other words, they might have thoughts or knowledge that I will find interesting and useful. Most of my readers/commenters seem to come to me for the same reasons. And if I do see something on one of these blogs that I don’t agree with, I will either ignore it or – depending how comfortable I feel with the person – write a comment explaining my view and in a tone that invites further discussion. Because you see, I might be wrong, and by understanding the person’s thinking my views might change. That’s right people, I AM OPEN TO CHANGING MY MIND. I have already changed my mind on a lot of things through blogging.
And I think what really turns me off is when people who are not at all open to changing their mind about anything insist on trying to change others’ minds. What is the point? If no-one is going to change their position, then it just becomes a battle to have the last word, to give the appearance that you’ve got the stronger argument. It is really then just about ego.
When I see people pushing their views on others – and that is really a matter of the tone they use to express themselves – it makes my blood boil. Sometimes I argue back, but usually I regret that and wish I’d saved my energy. I even feel that I’ve lowered myself to their level and that I should have just risen above it. I am certainly not immune to egotism, but I have decided that I would like to try and avoid it, let go of the need to stand up to “bullies” in the blogosphere because anyone who accepts what they say without examining it is a fool and it is not my responsibility to change that. Nor do I need to take the wind out of their sails. If they want to go away thinking that they have had the last word, let them.
Why is it that the wisest people are always the most humble? Maybe because humility cultivates wisdom. I reckon if you are humble you can learn something from listening to every other person’s perspective. Humility has at times been forced on me by a crumbling of my confidence and it has always been beneficial. Religion always seems to require holding on to a certain amount of things as truths, but I actually don’t think questioning ever harms the truth. It may harm your ego though. Anyone who’s ever converted has gone through that kind of self-doubt and it is not pleasant, but wouldn’t you rather that than hold on to a falsehood?
Let’s all approach each other with a humble curiosity, shall we?
Doubt
Do you ever have days where you don’t know if you believe in God?
Perhaps I am an emotional decision-maker after all, because when doubts come knocking, intellectual convictions aren’t enough to prop me up. Or maybe I am just suffering severe anxiety and the clouding of the rational mind that comes with that.
I am beginning to worry that questioning and digging deeper only destroys religious belief. I’ve already knocked out one faith through questioning and applying reason. Maybe there just isn’t a faith out there that can prove itself beyond all reasonable doubt to be just what it says on the tin.
But I can’t turn my back on my convictions, nothing makes sense otherwise. And part of my convictions is that religions are the result of God communicating with us and showing himself. So maybe I will just have to swallow the bitter pill of uncertainty.
Here is a comforting and soothing nasheed (Islamic song) to wash it down with. Do listen to it and read the words, it’s truly beautiful.
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”.
