Sunday, June 8, 2008

Rabia al-Adawiyah

Oh my I haven’t posted anything in a long time@ I have just been so busy with life in general and the university workload alhamdulilah its ok though.

Lately, actually since last year I have been getting into studying the Islamic sciences especially tasawwuf. It is something that intrigues me a great deal, especially the involvement of women. One of the great Sufi woman that inspires me is Rabia al-Adawiyah – may allah bess her. Here is her story;

If anyone says, “Why have you included Rabe’a in the rank of men?” my answer is, that the Prophet himself said, “God does not regard your outward forms.” The root of the matter is not form, but intention, as the Prophet said, “Mankind will be raised up according to their intentions.” Moreover, if it is proper to derive two-thirds of our religion from A’esha, surely it is permissible to take religious instruction from a handmaid of A’esha. When a woman becomes a “man” in the path of God, she is a man and one cannot any more call her a woman.

The night when Rabe’a came to earth, there was nothing whatsoever in her father’s house; for her father lived in very poor circumstances. He did not possess even one drop of oil to anoint her navel; there was no lamp, and not a rag to swaddle her in. He already had three daughters, and Rabe’a was his fourth; that is why she was called by that name.

“Go to neighbour So-and-so and beg for a drop of oil, so that I can light the lamp,” his wife said to him.

Now the man had entered into a covenant that he would never ask any mortal for anything. So he went out and just laid his hand on the neighbour’s door, and returned.

“They will not open the door,” he reported.

The poor woman wept bitterly. In that anxious state the man placed his head on his knees and went to sleep. He dreamed that he saw the Prophet.

“Be not sorrowful,” the Prophet bade him. “The girl child who has just come to earth is a queen among women, who shall be the intercessor for seventy thousand of my community Tomorrow,” the Prophet continued, “go to Isa-e Zadan the governor of Basra. Write on a piece of paper to the following effect. ‘Every night you send upon me a hundred blessings, an on Friday night four hundred. Last night was Friday night, and you forgot me. In expiation for that, give this man four hundred dinars lawfully acquired.’”

Rabe’a’s father on awaking burst into tears. He rose up and wrote as the Prophet had bidden him, and sent the message to the governor by the hand of a chamberlain.

“Give two thousand dinars to the poor,” the governor commanded when he saw the missive, “as a thanksgiving for the Master remembering me. Give four hundred dinars also to the Shaykh, and tell him, ‘I wish you to come to me so that I may see you. But I do not hold it proper for a man like you to come to me. I would rather come and rub my beard in you threshold. However, I adjure you by God, whatever you may need, pray let me know.’”

The man took the gold and purchased all that was necessary

When Rabe’a had become a little older, and her mother and father were dead, a famine came upon Basra, and her sisters were scattered. Rabe’a ventured out and was seen by a wicked man who seized her and then sold her for six dirhams. He purchaser put her to hard labour.

One day she was passing along the road when a stranger approached. Rabe’a fled. As she ran, she fell headlong and her hand was dislocated.

“Lord God,” she cried, bowing her face to the ground, “I am a stranger, orphaned of mother and father, a helpless prisoner fallen into captivity, my hand broken. Yet for all this I do not grieve; all I need is Thy good pleasure, to know whether Thou art well-pleased or no.”

“Do not grieve,” she heard a voice say. “Tomorrow a station shall be thine such that the cherubim in heaven will envy thee.”

So Rabe’a returned to her master’s house. By day she continually fasted and served God, and by night she worshipped standing until day. One night her master awoke from sleep and, looking through the window of his apartment, saw Rabe’a bowing prostrate and praying.

“O God, Thou knowest that the desire of my heart is in conformity with Thy command, and that the light of my eye is in serving Thy court. If the affair lay with me, I would not rest one hour from serving Thee, but Thou Thyself hast set me under the hand of a creature.”

Such was her litany. Her master perceived a lantern suspended without any chain above her head, the light whereof filled the whole house. Seeing this, he was afraid. Rising up he returned to his bedroom and sat pondering till dawn. When day broke he summoned Rabe’a, was gentle with her and set her free.

“Give me permission to depart,” Rabe’a said.

He gave her leave, and she left the house and went into the desert. From the desert she proceeded to a hermitage where she served God for a while. Then she determined to perform the pilgrimage, and set her face towards the desert. She bound her bundle on an ass. In the heart of the desert the ass died.

“Let us carry your load,” the men in the party said.

“You go on,” she replied. “I have not come putting my trust in you.”

So the men departed, and Rabe’a remained alone.

“O God,” she cried, lifting her head, “do kings so treat a woman who is a stranger and powerless? Thou hast invited me unto Thy house, then in the midst of the way Thou hast suffered my ass to die, leaving me alone in the desert.”

Hardly had she completed this orison when her ass stirred and rose up. Rabe’a placed her load on its back, and continued on her way. (The narrator of this story reports that some while afterwards he saw that little donkey being sold in the market.) She traveled on through the desert for some days, then she halted.

“O God,” she cried, “my heart is weary. Whither am I going? I a lump of clay, and Thy house a stone! I need Thee here.”

An inspiration immediately came into her heart.

“Rabe’a, thou art faring in the life-blood of eighteen thousand worlds. Hast thou not seen how Moses prayed for the vision of Me? And I cast a few motes of revelation upon the mountain, and the mountain shivered into forty pieces. Be content here with My name!”

No comments: