The Journey

Have we given this Ummah a thought?

Our ancestors from the Beloved Nation of the Beloved Messenger of Allah, may he be showered eternally with praise and blessings from the High, Allah, are a chasm apart from us. They, whose lives differ so greatly to ours, lived Islam daily, and nightly, and in every moment of their lives. They lived lives knowingly and aware that the Messenger of Allah sallallahu alayhi wassalam is a great figure in their lives, a guide, a shing light, alive, his presence they feel and are aware of.

We might wonder for a moment what that really means. Are we not also Muslims who live with Islam daily? What is so radically different from our ancestors to us? Search a little deeper in your heart my friend and I’m sure you’ll find the answer all on your own. And in case you you are still unaware of what it may be, here is an idea of what that might be.

2019. Umrah. Sacred Links. We arrive in the holy city of Madinah. Tentative. Excited to be in the old city of Madinah, the mud brick houses, the palm trees and the glittering sun. The sound of “Tala al Badru alayna” fills your spiritual ear. Here lives the Beloved Messenger of Allah, may the praise of my Creator connect with him and connect us to him. Allahu Akbar. His companions out and about. His family, his wives and those he loved under the wing of his limitless care, peace and blessings upon him and his family. Visions of Madinah abound. We can almost see the Beloved, we are living the Seerah in our hearts, our souls have become elevated, our chest walls feel the beat of a heart that can no longer wait to be reunited.

This is the crux of our emotions. The pinnacle of love we attain. For what happens next drives that right out of our minds, it quietens the heart, and suddenly we are left wondering, where is my soul?

These emotions in reality should be the beginning of a fruitious relationship with Allah and His Messenger, upon him be the peace and blessings of our Creator, a journey that will lead us to great good. These emotions, and in reality they are spiritual connections, are the driving force behind what will open to us next. However, as we are greeted with the smell of diesel, the pantomime of rushing feet to and fro, the constant illegible blabber, the skyscrapers, left, right, front, centre, we ask, where is Madinah?

We enter the haram, surely here we will connect? Keep going, we tell ourselves. Before we know it, we are standing outside. Did we just walk past the greatest creation that ever existed? Unbeknownst to us. Which one was his window? We could not tell, there was a guard there. He looked terrifying. He was yelling at us. At those next to us. He said something about moving on. Why was he there? Move on? From whom are you asking us to move on from? From our Beloved? From the Love of Allah? His Chosen one? Are you asking us to move on from guidance? From the source of light? From the fountain of light? From the reason we came to Madinah? Push. Shove. Is that a bruise?

Move on. Send salams. Move on. Shirk. Bid’aa. Move on. Echoing in our minds. This is wrong.

If we took their words out and placed in them in a jug and contemplated those words as they swirled around and around we would come to one conclusion. They don’t want us to connect to the Mercy. The Mercy to the Universe. What sadness.

But, praise be to Allah, the Messenger of Allah does not leave us. He connects with us. Causing our tears to flow, our hearts to become washed of filth and sin, our souls illuminated, and this light we carry with us in to Jordan, in to Jerusalem, and beyond.

As we skip ahead to Palestine. Friday morning. Al Quds. Sheikh Ahmed reading Surah al Kahf. Masjid Qibli. There is a feeling of peace and serenity. One that should have existed in Madinah. We hear a greag sound. Like a thundering waterfall. Of praise. Praise of the Beloved. How beautiful indeed. Our hearts overcome with joy rush over to drink from the flowing water eminating from the waterfall of love. We join in chorus. Here in Masjid al Aqsa we are joining in a Mawlid. In a mixture of joy and sadness we voice our love. Joy for the Beloved, joy for Masjid al Aqsa, joy for praising the Best of Creation in a Holy Land, a land of Prophets and prosperity, the land of peace called Palestine. The direct ascension from the Dome, the descension to earth with the Light of Allah in his chest.

Sadness. Sadness that this could not have been in Madinah. In the presence of the one who migrated to Madinah, and enlightened Madinah, and made Madinah his home. Now let us imagine that every holy place is filled with this light. The light of the hearts of the believers who return with words of praise for the Beloved and his family and companions, to recite a Mawlid, to feed the poor, to build great schools of knowledge. Where worship is pure, where love is pure, where praise is pure. And constant. And eternal.

Is this not the life lived by our ancestors?