The Ascent of the Soul

 

In the sanctuaries of blessed times, the soul is freed from the captivity of clay to taste the sweetness of its own elevation. There, pleasure transcends the limits of the perishable senses and becomes a luminous outpouring that floods the inner being. True joy lies not in attaining base desires, but in that majestic intimacy in which the effort of obedience blends with the glad tidings of acceptance.

This divine bliss shows itself at its most radiant in moments the memory never loses, as if etched upon the innermost chamber of the heart. Which of us does not feel his heart flutter with longing when he recalls the hour when the sun nears its setting on a day of Ramadan? Who is not stirred with yearning for the last hour of the Day of `Arafah, with its tears shed on that pure plain, whether one was present there or not? And who has not heard the whisper of the night's stillness in its last hours, before dawn, with the intimacy of nearness to Allah, the Exalted?

The Sunset of a Ramadan Day: The Hidden Joy of the Soul

As twilight is born and the sun's disc sinks toward the horizon on a day of Ramadan, hearts reach the peak of their anticipation. In those minutes an overwhelming joy sweeps through the soul and shakes its foundations, raising a profound question: is it the joy of food and drink after long hunger and thirst, or something deeper and loftier that touches the very core of the soul?

The nature of the pleasure: It is certainly not the joy of clay in water. It is the composite joy articulated in the Prophetic statement: "The fasting person has two joys: when he breaks his fast he rejoices, and when he meets his Lord he rejoices because of his fast." [1] It is the soul's joy at its victory over the desires of the body and its pride in completing an act of obedience. It is also the joy of the soul slipping free from its material bonds, at ease in the hope of divine acceptance.

The presence of the soul: The bodily effort of abstaining from food and drink, which weakened the body by the end of the day, turns into nourishment of another kind, by which the strength of the soul flourishes. Tranquility pours into believing hearts, together with certainty of receiving the precious reward promised by the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, who said: "Three whose supplication is not rejected: the fasting person until he breaks his fast…" [2] In those moments, fasting is transformed from the hardship of the body into an ascent of the soul.

The Eve of `Arafah: The Great Serenity and the Outpouring of Mercy

When the sun of the ninth of Dhū al-Ḥijjah prepares to depart, a majestic stillness settles over the plain of ʿArafāt and over the hearts of believers in the East and West of the earth. Hands raised in supplication race the tears in the eyes in those blessed hours.

The nature of the pleasure: The pleasure that fills the soul as it is released from its burdens on the eve of ʿArafah is the pleasure of a "new birth." It is the joy of a prisoner whose night was long and whose shackles are suddenly struck off. On that day, the believer keeps before his eyes the words of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him: "There is no day on which Allah frees more servants from the Fire than the Day of ʿArafah…" [3] He hopes to be among those set free. The weight of years dissolves beneath the downpour of forgiveness, and horizons open before a soul untouched by sin. The true pleasure of that day lies not merely in the removal of fear of punishment. It lies in the deep relief that wraps the inner being when the servant feels the garment of purity clothing his soul again, washed of the hardships of the world. The soul returns to its original nature (fiṭrah): radiant, free, and enveloped in divine pleasure.

The Last Part of the Night: The Intimate Converse of the Near Ones

When the night settles into its final stretch, the gates of heaven open to a warm call that fills the horizons: "Is there anyone seeking forgiveness? Is there anyone repenting? Is there anyone asking? Is there anyone supplicating?", until dawn breaks. [4] In the hour before dawn, the soul detaches completely from the clamor of life and prostrates itself in the sanctuary of servitude, where neediness becomes glorification.

The nature of the pleasure: The pleasure the soul tastes in these hours, hidden from people's eyes, is the pleasure of "absolute privacy." It is the joy of freedom from showing off for reputation, and of being alone with the King of Kings, Glorified and Exalted is He.

When the soul settles into the station of pure servitude, neediness in asking turns into the richness of certainty, and the seclusion of the pre-dawn becomes a manifestation of intimacy overflowing with contentment. That seclusion then becomes nourishment for the soul on its wearying journey through this life. Here we may reflect on the Prophet's guidance in his words, peace and blessings be upon him: "Seek help through the morning journey, the afternoon journey, and something of the night journey (al-duljah)." [5][6] The reality of this pleasure lies in the quiet ease that flows through the depths when the broken servant senses that he is as close to his Lord as he can be. His hidden converse then becomes, in the tongue of his state, a personal ascent that lifts him above every worry. It brings him back to the reality of this world, reminding him of its transience, so that his heart is washed of the world's murk before the darkness of the night is lifted.

When the times of divine gifts are folded away, they depart only after the souls have been stilled with them. The soul's share of these acts of worship is a liberation that renews itself and a certainty that grows firm. It is the soul's return, filled with the joy of nearness, having cast from its shoulders the burdens of clay and the sins of travelling the paths of the world. Obedience was never a shackle for bodies. It is a true ascent in which souls taste the sweetness of peace. The soul's need of worship is like the body's need of food: we need worship so that our souls may resume their journey through life with a loftier spirit and a purer heart, enveloped in beautiful contentment and the glad tidings of divine acceptance.

 

Sources and References

[1] Agreed upon: Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī (3/26) and Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim (2/807).

[2] Narrated by al-Tirmidhī (5/578), who said: "This is a ḥasan ḥadīth"; and by Ibn Ḥibbān in his Ṣaḥīḥ, chapter: "Mention of the hope that the fasting person's supplication will be answered at the time of breaking his fast" (8/215).

[3] Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim (2/982).

[4] Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim (1/522).

[5] Ibn Rajab, may Allah have mercy on him, said: "He means that these three times are the times of work and of journeying to Allah: the beginning of the day, its end, and the end of the night." Fatḥ al-Bārī by Ibn Rajab (1/152).

[6] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī (1/16).